Lose Yourself
by gf7
Summary: Sequel to Through The Fire and Falling Backwards. Helena has left the group, guiltstricken. She has a lot further to fall. Updated June 25, 2004
1. 1

Title: Lose Yourself  
  
Author: Shawn Carter  
  
E-Mail: wolfpackproductionscomcast.net  
  
Website: http:www.wolfpack-productions.com (Not Yet Up)  
  
Feedback: Please  
  
Notes: This is the follow-up to Falling Backwards and Through The Fire. I would definitely advise reading these first. Starting with Through The Fire.  
  
Summary: In the aftermath of the Shield Ball massacre, Helena has decided to leave the team. She has completely lost faith in both the mission and herself. As her anger and depression is further manipulated, the remaining team must race to stop a threat that could destroy everyone and everything around them.  
  
Rating: PG-13. Language. Violence. Non-consensual drug use.  
  
Music: Title is Eminem. Lyrics are Sarah Mac.

* * *

"I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to lose  
  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
  
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
  
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light"

* * *

It's been raining for almost two days straight now. The streets are flooded over and most of the schools have been shut down for the week. A lot of businesses on the main drag have also closed down. It's just too ugly out there right now.  
  
Funny how that doesn't stop the criminals.  
  
I spin hard in my chair, my eyes settling on the computer screen in front of me. I point at one of the blips and speak into the microphone in front of me, "You have someone or something about ten feet ahead of you. Be careful."  
  
"I'm on it," she replies back. I can hear tension in her voice. This is new for her. For me too. I'm used to having a different person on the other side of the comm.  
  
"Well?" I ask. "What is it?"  
  
"I don't see anything. Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes," I reply. "Keep your eyes open. Something is near you."  
  
"Sure," she mutters. I'm not sure if she doubts me or if she thinks I'm going mad. Probably a little bit of both. "Look, I've been out here almost an hour now and I'm still not seeing anything. No robbery and no bad guys."  
  
I turn towards one of my other monitors. I have the database for the GCPD on it. I type a few words and a new screen comes up. It has the report from dispatch about the 911 call. "Yes. It says a robbery and a shooting at Wicker. You're at Wicker."  
  
"I don't..."  
  
Her voice trails off. I stare down at the screen for a moment, my eyes fixing on the purple dot in the middle of the map grid. That's Dinah. She chose the color herself. I see it move a few centimeters which means she's still in motion. That's obviously a good thing.  
  
"Dinah?"  
  
"I'm fine," she grunts. "Okay, you win. I have a thug."  
  
I take a deep breath. "Do you have it under control?"  
  
"I do," she mutters. I hear a series of loud noises. Sounds like she's hitting him. Or maybe slapping. I'm not overly sure. I hear him call her a bitch and she laughs at him. If I didn't know better I'd think it was Helena out there instead of Dinah.  
  
It's not though.  
  
God only knows where Helena is right now.  
  
I can't do this. I can't allow my mind to drift. Now is so not the time.  
  
"Dinah, report," I snap.  
  
"I'm fine," she gasps out as I hear something hit the ground. "What's your issue?"  
  
I shake my head. "Issue?"  
  
"You sound ticked off. I have it handled."  
  
I blow out air between my teeth. She's not wrong. Even thinking about Helena these days seems to drop my mood down to very bad or very depressed within seconds.  
  
And God help us all, it's only been three weeks since she walked away.  
  
Three weeks and twenty-one days.  
  
Semantics really.  
  
"I know," I start softly. "I just...I got worried. You're done for the night, okay?"  
  
"Sure," she answers, dropping her tone a bit. "You want me to toss this guy off at the police department? He still has all the cash on him." I hear something drop. "And the gun."  
  
"No, I don't want you getting that close. I already sent an anonymous alert to the dispatch center. They should have a car on its way to your location already. Get out of there."  
  
"Copy that," she says. I hear her boots hit against the cement, water kicking up under them. My hearing isn't that specialized but my sense of what is going on around her is. I've learned how to listen to small noises and how to know exactly what they are.  
  
For instance I can now tell that she's about two feet away from the Hummer because she's stopped walking and it sounds like she's trying to get the keys out of her pocket. I hear a small blip and the alarm is disarmed.  
  
"Going off comm," I tell her.  
  
"Okay," she says and I think she sounds relieved.  
  
That's not hard to imagine. Not at all.  
  
To say that I've been a tad bit overly about her for the last three weeks would be something of an understatement. I've been downright on top of her.  
  
And I can tell that it's annoying her.  
  
But God bless her, she's letting me smother her.  
  
She knows why I need it.  
  
I turn away from the computer in front of me and move towards the kitchen. Alfred has the night off so it's up to me to take care of myself and my needs. And that means making my own coffee which thank you, yes, I can do just fine.  
  
It's been a long couple of weeks, I'll tell you that much. Long and emotional. There's been a lot of anger, a lot of a pain and more than a few tears shed.  
  
The only thing there hasn't been is Helena.  
  
I guess more than a small part of me actually thought that she'd come back. She's stayed away before. Never for more than a week but just the same. When she gets down she tends to retreat and pull back. But she always comes home eventually.  
  
I actually believed that would hold true this time as well though I'm not sure why.  
  
I mean even I knew when she walked out that she was deadly serious. I've never heard her speak that way before. So damn defeated. So damn lost.  
  
So full of self-hatred.  
  
I wonder if she's hurt herself.  
  
It kills me to think that but I know it's possible.  
  
I flatten out a filter and slide it into the coffee machine. I follow it up with French Vanilla. I love the smell of it in the air. It's very soothing.  
  
God knows I could use that right now.  
  
I'm driving Dinah nuts.  
  
I have to keep reminding myself that she doesn't need a mother right now. She doesn't need someone to guide her with an iron fist. It's so easy to try to wonder if maybe I could have changed all of this if I had just been a little more strict with Helena when she was in school. Yeah like that works.  
  
Okay here, if I had stopped Helena from breaking curfew then maybe she wouldn't have returned to the Red Zone. Maybe if I had grounded Helena for longer than a week for doing LSD than maybe Mick wouldn't have been able drug her into a murderous state. And maybe...  
  
Yeah, you see?  
  
It doesn't work.  
  
Helena was a terrible teenager but she wasn't doing it to rebel. She wasn't trying to hurt me. She was just spinning because of how much she was in pain. Her anger pushed her and releasing it made her feel better. But you know what, she got it all under control. As she got older she started to understand the pitfalls of her rage.  
  
I'm not saying that she's become calm and focused. No one will ever buy that. In fact, in some ways she's gotten even wilder but I think the rules of the game changed for her. She started to only get as wild as she could control.  
  
Mick took that away from her.  
  
Mick turned her inside out.  
  
And now she's just gone.  
  
I wonder where she is these days.  
  
I mean I kind of know. At least from whispers.  
  
I think she's still living in her apartment but from what I hear from Leonard, she's barely there. I don't know where she's working but she has to be doing something to pass the time. And obviously that doesn't include sitting in the corner of her apartment.  
  
That makes me feel better. I think.  
  
My mind whirls with the other options.  
  
Yeah, let's just not for now.  
  
"Barbara?"  
  
I turn and blink. That's when I notice the water bubbling out over the coffee maker. "Fuck," I curse, scooting backwards. I just narrowly miss getting a whole lapful of scalding hot water. Not that it will matter as far as pain but hey nasty burns aren't a great option either.  
  
Dinah moves past me and flips off the power button on the coffee maker. Grabbing a towel she lifts it up and pours it out into the sink. Then she bends down next to me. "Are you okay?" she asks, concern in her blue eyes.  
  
I sigh. "Yeah, just lost in thought."  
  
"She'll come home," Dinah tells me. She's been saying this for almost three weeks now. I don't know if she actually believes it or if she's just saying it because it comforts her. I don't know.  
  
I think I need her to keep saying it.  
  
I move my chair away from her and wave my hand in the air. "Right. Right." I shake my head, annoyed by my loss of focus. I would have reprimanded one of the girls for the same. I should know better. I have to be in control.  
  
"Oh I forgot to mention it earlier but I found something on the guy who robbed the store," she tells me, her hand dropping into her pocket.  
  
I narrow my eyes and slide towards her, hand out to take the object she's holding in her palm. "Where did you find this?" I ask, accepting the necklace she gives me.  
  
"On the ground near him. It must have broken off during the fight." She wrinkles her nose. "I really kicked his ass."  
  
I offer her a look of bemusement. I don't necessarily understand how she does it but even after all of this, Dinah is still upbeat. That amazes me. I shake my head and go back to looking at the necklace. It's simple really. Silver chain with a small circular pendant at the end. Almost like a St. Christopher's medal.  
  
Only not.  
  
I narrow my eyes. I know what this is.  
  
It's a family crest.  
  
It belongs to one of the members of the Table.  
  
The window opened outwards to allow her access to the roof. It was still raining but an overhang a few feet above kept most of the water away. She slipped out and onto the tiles, her bare feet scraping against the hard surface.  
  
Her eyes drifted upwards towards the heavens. The night was dark and gray but she could still see hints of the full moon peaking out beneath the rain- clouds. Somehow or another that matched her mood to a tee.  
  
She settled her butt against the wall and dropped down. Reaching back with her hand into the apartment she pulled through a half full bottle of Jack Daniels. She swirled it around, watching the brown fluid circle the bottle.  
  
"I figured I'd find you here eventually," he said from inside the apartment.  
  
She squinted towards the darkness, her eyes tired and unfocused. "Reese," she said finally. "Go away."  
  
"No," he replied, moving towards her. She could hear the sound of his crutches clicking against her carpet. He saddled up next to the window. "I've been here almost every night."  
  
"Sounds a bit obsessive. I know I told Barbara that I didn't want to see anyone."  
  
"Well I guess that's just too damn bad," he replied, gazing out at her. She tilted her head to look him over and noticed that his leg was in a soft cast. Other than that though, he looked okay. Just the same, he didn't seem terribly eager to try to climb through the window in order to get out to the roof.  
  
"Call it what you need to," he said. "But you keep walking away. You keep quitting."  
  
"Spare me," she drawled, taking a hefty slug from the bottle. "This isn't like before, Reese. When Harley got me, I was responsible for what happened to Wade but I didn't do it. This isn't like before."  
  
"You're right," he admitted. "It's not. But you're no more responsible for this than you were for Harley killing Wade. What you're doing..."  
  
"You don't know what I'm doing," she said, taking another sip.  
  
"Yes I do," he said. "You're trying to drink yourself into oblivion."  
  
Helena sat up and looked hard at Reese. "Really? That's what I'm doing. Oh wow, you know what, now I'm better. I'm all fucking better."  
  
"That's cute," he said. "Only not."  
  
"Ooh, the good detective is getting slick with the lingo," Helena snorted. "Great. Okay then, try this one on; Get the hell out of my pad before I kick your ass out the door. In my state, you're likely to need a body bag."  
  
"You wouldn't," he said softly.  
  
She snorted. "Why not?"  
  
"Because you're not a killer. A drunk maybe but not a killer."  
  
She laughed and stood up. "Your memory ain't so great is it, Detective?"  
  
"My memory is just fine," he answered. "I was there. I know that wasn't you."  
  
"It was me," she said dully. She swung the arm with the bottle in it. "And this, if this is an intervention, isn't going to work. I'm done, Reese. I'm just done."  
  
"You can't be done. You're needed," he insisted.  
  
She turned away from him and went back to staring up at the sky. "I've spent the last three weeks trying to force all of this out. Doing everything I can to make it all come to the surface. You know, purge and be done with it. Do all the bad things I know to do. It's always worked in the past."  
  
"I can help you," he told her.  
  
"You're not listening, Reese. I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's. I just want to be left alone."  
  
"That's not going to happen," he informed her, eyes locked on her. She wasn't looking back at him but she could feel the intensity of his gaze. It was positively penetrating.  
  
"Don't make me hurt you," she whispered, still not looking at him. He could see her hand twitching on the neck of the bottle. She looked like he was shaking.  
  
Every part of him wanted to wrap her in his arms.  
  
He didn't think she'd be receptive.  
  
"You won't," he said, with entirely too much confidence. She heard him settle against the wall, grunting a bit in pain as his injured leg collided with the hard surface.  
  
She turned to him. "You didn't get what I was saying before did you? I mean about doing everything I could to get the anger out?"  
  
"I got what you were saying," he replied, his tone even. "I can well imagine what you've been doing. I don't care."  
  
She snorted derisively. "You're not that much of a Boy Scout, Reese. Most guys tend to care when their girl is with another guy."  
  
"I care," he replied. "I care about you more."  
  
"That's sweet," she said, her voice full of fake sugar. "Now go away."  
  
"You're not listening," he insisted. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Then this is going to be a very long night," she muttered turning away from him. Then she shook her head. "Look, I don't want to do this. I'm not going to do this. You want to drive me away from my own place, fine. I'm not going to sit here and argue with you. I don't...I just don't want to. Respect my decision and leave me alone."  
  
He took a step towards her. "If I thought that that was for the best I would." He reached out for her hand but she pulled away. "I know you better than you think," he continued. "Whatever you've done, you'll do worse. You'll keep going until you can't stop."  
  
"Then maybe it won't hurt," she said dully.  
  
"It's supposed to hurt," he reminded her.  
  
"Wow, I think we've had this conversation before," she chuckled. "Reese, please. I'm asking you for the last time to please leave. I won't ask again."  
  
He nodded slowly. "I don't want to fight with you either. Not tonight anyways. But this isn't over."  
  
"It is," she said, taking another sip from the bottle. "Spare me all the hero drama."  
  
He reached out for his crutches and pulled them close to him. "You need your family," he reminded her. "We can get you through this."  
  
Then he turned and moved towards the door. She heard it click behind him.  
  
Closing her eyes she dropped back her head and emptied the bottle. Then she stood up and walked to the edge of the roof. She looked down at the hard ground below, her eyes focusing on Reese as he moved down the street, his crutches clicking against the cement.  
  
As soon as he disappeared from view she dropped the bottle. It slammed hard against the ground and shattered. She watched glass fly outwards. A few forgotten brown drops spilled out and mixed with the muddy rainwater.  
  
"I don't want to be through this," she muttered, eyes on the shattered glass.  
  
She stepped back away from the edge and slid back down against the wall. She didn't even realize that she'd been soaked all the way through and was now dripping water. Dropping her head into her hands, she felt her body shudder violently.  
  
The violent tears came soon after.  
  
Again.  
  
I wonder why Barbara is so fascinated by the necklace I found on that guy. I looked it over myself but it didn't seem like much. Kinda plain if you ask me. Nothing flashy.  
  
She looks like I just gave her the key to a treasure chest.  
  
I move to stand behind her but she waves me off. I'm in her light. She hates when I do that. Oh well. I bend over her. "So what is it?"  
  
She looks up at me like she wants to explain and I can almost see the wheels turning. She's trying to think of an explanation that she thinks I'll understand. Finally she manages, "It's a clan symbol."  
  
"Clan?" I ask, thoroughly confused. This is hardly new. You have no idea just how often Barbara Gordon starts explanations in the middle. Her mind thinks too fast.  
  
She moves her hands in a weird circle. She seems excited. This is the most animated that she's been since Helena left three weeks ago. "The Table."  
  
"Still not following," I say, shaking my head. Involuntarily I start to look around the control room. Eventually Barbara will go back to me but it might take awhile so I need to keep myself amused.  
  
I'm seventeen hello. Three words now.  
  
Short. Attention. Span.  
  
Thanks and yes, I will be here all week.  
  
"Several years ago there was a family of mobsters here in town. Several families actually. Clans. Reese's family was one of them. Hawke." She turns away from and back towards her computers. Her fingers fly over the keyboard and the screen illuminates as it reacts. I see a picture on the monitor. Looks like a metal circle with a hawk in the middle. "That's their family seal." She holds up the necklace. "This is Zeus."  
  
"There's a mobster named Zeus?" I ask with great amazement. "Because that's cool." I bend to look at the necklace again and sure enough I see that the emblem on it is that of a lightning strike,  
  
"No," she says, shaking her head. "Some of the family seals were obvious. Like Hawke. Zeus was a man named Marco Jameson. But he was the head of everything."  
  
"Even above Hawke?"  
  
"Even above Hawke," Barbara confirms. "His side of the whole operation was drug trafficking. He brought some pretty nasty things into Gotham. We thought that Batman had finally chased him out." She shakes her head. "Obviously we were wrong."  
  
"Or maybe he just came back," I offer.  
  
"Maybe," she says. I can tell she's deep in thought. Deep in her past.  
  
"So," I start, hoping to gain back her attention. "Is Zeus responsible for Topside?"  
  
Barbara looks up at me as if I've just had the most brilliant thought ever. Frankly I'm stunned that she didn't get to it first. But hey, smart as she is, I'm sure most of her mind is working on a cure for cancer or something like that. "Yes," she says loudly. "Yes, of course."  
  
"Of course," I mutter, getting the feeling that I'm about to lose her again.  
  
"I was wondering why drug activity in New Gotham has suddenly increased by over three hundred percent. Now it makes sense. It even fits. Zeus was always in to designer drugs. He brought in one several years ago that caused everyone who took it to become extremely paranoid. It also made them feel like they were flying. Good and bad. Sound familiar?"  
  
"Completely like Topside only replace paranoia with rage," I reply, my voice almost a whisper.  
  
She folds her hands over her eyes and sighs, "Wow," she says.  
  
I wrinkle my nose. "This is bad, right?"  
  
"Bad?" she looks up at me.  
  
"Major crime daddy porting in drugs bad?" I suggest.  
  
She cracks a smile at that. "On the contrary," she says. "This could be very good. If we can stop the import of Topside then maybe..."  
  
I cut her off. "Maybe we can prove to Helena that what happened wasn't her fault? How?"  
  
"I've been thinking about that for awhile," Barbara admits, sliding her chair around to look at me. "I couldn't quite figure out why Mick would go in and murder a whole room of cops. Sure he had a thing for them but still...it had to be more. Just couldn't figure out what."  
  
"He was a diversion?"  
  
"Right," she says nodding. "When the shooting at the ball started, every officer still on duty answered the 10-13."  
  
"10-13?"  
  
"Officer in need of assistance. It's police code. That left the docks open. They used the ball as a distraction so that they could import the drugs."  
  
"And Helena?"  
  
"Fortuitous," Barbara replied. "She gave them more firepower. But in the end, it was a setup. Mick used her to get the drugs in. The same drug he used to control her."  
  
"It's not her fault then," I insist, a bit of hope in my voice.  
  
"It's not," she answers. Then she sighs and I feel my hopes fall with hers. "It won't matter. Until we can get her to understand..."  
  
"Yeah," I say, intentionally interrupting her.  
  
There's a reason why neither of us have actively tried to bring Helena home. It's not that we believe she's guilty because we don't. It's because we know that she does. And as long as that holds true, she will resist every attempt we make.  
  
She'll push us away with every ounce of energy in her body. Even if that means trying to hurt us to get the point across.  
  
I want her home.  
  
I miss her like crazy.  
  
Sweeps just aren't the same without her and frankly Barbara is driving me insane. Helena seemed to actually enjoy the quipping demanding voice in her ear but it makes me cranky. I'd prefer to return to the sidekick role.  
  
Really.  
  
No seriously, really.  
  
Barbara swallows hard. "Doesn't matter," she says. "We need to do our part. Batman never allowed the drug trade to prosper in Gotham. We're sure as hell not about to change that."  
  
I smile. "I'm game," I say, more perkily than I feel. It'll be nice to have a distraction.  
  
But guess what, we are going to bring Helena home eventually.  
  
Trust me that.  
  
We will.  
  
"Where is she?" he asked, saddling up next to the bartender. He ran his fingers through his soaked dark hair and brushed some of the water away. He was dressed in jeans and a long overcoat.  
  
"Over there," the boy behind the bar said. He indicated towards a table on the dark side of the club. Tidal Wave had a lot of those but none more secluded than the one near the pool tables. Which was strange really if you stopped to think about it.  
  
"How long has she been here?" Mick Collins asked, eyes on the girl sitting hunched over at the table. She had her forehead rested up against the flat surface. Her clothes were more pedestrian than he'd ever seen on her; just torn jeans and a sweatshirt.  
  
"About an hour. She's got to be plastered by now," the kid said. "And she's got herself quite a tab going."  
  
"Put it on mine," Mick grinned. "She's with me."  
  
The kid leaned over the top. "Hey man, I don't get it, I keep hearing that you're dead. So, what are you doing chasing after some skirt in broad daylight. Especially one like Kyle."  
  
"Don't worry about that," Mick replied. He reached into his pocket and yanked out three twenty dollar bills. "Our secret right?"  
  
"Sure," the kid said, scooping up the money. He turned away from Mick and moved back over to the other side, shaking his head. Not his deal if Collins wanted to waste time flirting with a ball-buster like Helena Kyle.  
  
"You look like shit," Mick said as he dropped into the chair opposite Helena.  
  
She looked up at him and snorted. "And you don't for a dead man."  
  
"Yeah well, bulletproof and all of that," he chuckled.  
  
"Whatever," she muttered. "You try to take away my beer and I swear to God that I'll put you in the ground myself."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," he grinned. He reached across to touch her face but she stopped his hand, snapping around his wrist in her hand. He just laughed. He put his other hand over hers and brought them both up to his lips. He kissed her hand and then let it go. "Relax babe, I'm not here to hurt you."  
  
"Funny because the last time I saw you well...it didn't exactly go well for me," she growled. She tried to push herself out of her chair but stumbled when she did so. The alcohol buzzing through her system forced her to drop back.  
  
"I swear, I'm not here to hurt you. I wasn't trying to hurt you then either."  
  
"My shoulder says differently," she hissed, indicating towards the one that had been shot. She had ripped the sling off within three days of leaving the Clock Tower, not really giving a damn about long-term damage.  
  
"I didn't shoot you and I sure as hell didn't know what Wolf was planning. I'd have killed her myself if I'd known," he told her. "But really, things worked out for the best." He moved closer to her, close enough for her to be able to smell his cologne. "Don't tell me you didn't feel a thrill when you nailed her in the face."  
  
Helena didn't reply, just simply gazed back at him.  
  
He decided to push on. "This is you Kyle. This is you. This is what you were meant to do. Meant to be. It doesn't have to be all of this guilt and drama. You could actually enjoy yourself."  
  
"I'm not a killer," she said dully.  
  
"That's a lie and we both know it. That's exactly what you are."  
  
She shook her head. "Fine. Whatever. What is it that you want?"  
  
He reached out and took her hand. "I want you."  
  
"Dream the fuck on," Helena snorted, reaching for her beer. "Really not looking for a new boy-toy and certainly not one who has a thing for shooting me up with drugs."  
  
He rolled his eyes but kept smiling at her. "I wasn't asking," he said.  
  
"Then you're the one shooting up," she replied. "Because your chances are pretty much zero and none."  
  
He laughed. "I don't think you understand; I'm telling you. You know what you are Cat. You're a killer. I figured our little experiment would have convinced you of that. I'm kind of disappointed that it didn't."  
  
"Yeah, I've been disappointing a lot of people these days," Helena slurred. "Are we done here?"  
  
"No," he said firmly. "I really think you should hear me out."  
  
She turned to glare at him. "And why the fuck should I do that? You're responsible for what I did."  
  
He shook his head. "I just gave you the weapons. You did everything else on your own. You need to accept that. Once you do, you'll be much better off."  
  
"Fine, I'm a killer. I'm also bored now. What do you want?"  
  
"I want you to work with me. I want you to join the gang full time," he said, moving closer to her.  
  
She snorted loudly. "Not really a gang-banger but hey thanks for the attractive offer." She stood up to leave.  
  
"You're still not listening," he said. "I know you. I know what you are. I know what you're capable of. I know what you're not capable of."  
  
"Oh?" she said, lifting an eyebrow. "There's not much I can't do. And that includes beating the shit out of you if you don't hurry up and get to the point."  
  
"Fine," he said, no longer amused. "Here are your choices Kyle; you can either work with me or you can spend the rest of your life in prison for murder."  
  
"No one saw me," she replied, eyes narrowing. "I never took off my mask."  
  
He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He dropped it to the table and it spilled out its contents. Photographs. She was vaguely reminded of how he had done that exact same thing only three weeks earlier.  
  
Only then it had been snapshots of her and Reese in bed together.  
  
These were something else entirely.  
  
She reached down to pick up the first one and noticed that it looked like it was a digital photo of a camcorder recording, Time dated and all.  
  
But that wasn't the interesting part.  
  
No, not at all.  
  
"You see that," Mick said, coming around to the back of her. She could feel one of his arms slide around to her side as he gazed over her shoulder. He put his arm across her and pointed at one of the pictures. "That's you. With the cat mask. That's right before we went in."  
  
She felt her stomach slam to the ground as she stared down at the photos that clearly implicated her in the massacre. They were proof positive of her crimes.  
  
They were her damnation.  
  
"So you in now babe?"  
  
"Fine," she muttered. "What the hell."  
  
Mick grinned, a boyish look coming over his face. He leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. He could feel her pull away a bit but the movement was more instinct than it was reaction.  
  
"That's my girl," he said, his tone showing his confidence.  
  
As far as he was concerned, he had won.  
  
The cat was in the bag.  
  
TBC- END CHAPTER ONE 


	2. 2

CHAPTER TWO:  
  
I think I'm hung over.  
  
That's not hard to imagine considering how much alcohol I've ingested over the last few weeks. I'm a bartender sure but lately the only bar I've been visiting is the one at the front of the Tidal Wave.  
  
The one where the drinks keep coming long after the point when someone should have stopped me. No one cares there; not their business.  
  
It's the perfect place to lose yourself in.  
  
But that was yesterday.  
  
Today I'm somewhere else.  
  
I look up at the ceiling of the room I'm in and sigh. Every part of me aches and that includes the internal stuff. You know, the emotional crap.  
  
I really don't want to go there.  
  
Just plain opens too many doors that I'm not ready to look through.  
  
I wonder if I'll ever be ready.  
  
"Hey," he says, moving to sit next to me. I move away but he catches my arm. "A little late for that isn't it?"  
  
I groan and drop my head into my hands. Wasn't quite sure what happened last night after the bar but the smug look on his face spells it out. Not like I'm shocked or anything.  
  
Hey, this is bender.  
  
Welcome to my life.  
  
"Mick," I grumble. "Get the fuck away from me."  
  
He laughs and I want to punch him. I even plot out my movement in my head but I'm stopped by the fact that I can't even add up two and two at this moment. Yeah, I'm that cotton-balled.  
  
I feel him slide an arm around my waist and then he leans close to kiss me. I turn my face and end up getting his wet lips against my cheek. He makes a noise that tells me he's not amused with me.  
  
Imagine me caring.  
  
He got his.  
  
Now he needs to leave me the hell alone.  
  
He stands up abruptly and I feel the bed I'm sitting on jump up a few inches. Mick's not a big guy but he sits heavily. He drops everything. Talk about bad posture.  
  
"We have work to do," he says, his tone hard. He's really ticked at me.  
  
He'll get over it.  
  
After all, he has me exactly where he wants me.  
  
My eyes flitter over to the envelope on the dresser. A few of the pictures are leaking out of it. My instinct is to rip them to shreds but I'm not that much of an idiot; Mick had copies.  
  
So this is my life then.  
  
My options are simple; I can work with him and fall deeper into this hell that I'm in. I can become exactly what he says I am. What I know I am. I can break my promise to Barbara to not make her have to come after me.  
  
Or I can go to prison for the rest of my life.  
  
I can be knocked to the ground, shackled behind my back and wrapped into a white straightjacket. I can be thrown into a cell and left to rot.  
  
My choice of hell I guess.  
  
I want to be brave and courageous. I want to be a good person. I want to earn back some of the respect that I've lost from her.  
  
Barbara that is.  
  
I walked away because I knew how she'd look at me.  
  
I knew what she'd think of me.  
  
I'm a monster.  
  
If I was anyone else, she'd have already handed me over to the police and shut the door. The only reason she hasn't now is because she feels responsible for me. She's probably blaming herself.  
  
"Helena," he says, his face suddenly directly in front of mine."Get showered. We have work to do."  
  
I grunt in response but rise to my feet nonetheless. A shower actually sounds nice. If for no other reason than to get his smell off of me.  
  
His smell and the odor of alcohol.  
  
These last three weeks have all been a blur. I'm not sure I exactly remember where I've been and what I've done.  
  
Only sometimes I do.  
  
Five nights ago I watched Dinah fighting a few goons in an alley. There were four of them, all of them big burly guys with too many tats. She was handling them just fine but she didn't see the moron with the pipe coming up from behind her.  
  
I think he would have killed her.  
  
He pulled his arm back as far as he could, like he was Goddamn Barry Bonds and he got ready to swing.  
  
I got him first.  
  
I lifted him high up in the air and dropped him in front of me, way up above the city. The dumb idiot shrieked like a little girl when he saw me coming at him. That's not the reaction I usually get but he must have known he was about to get hurt.  
  
And hurt badly.  
  
I beat him until he dropped like a rock. Until he begged me to stop.  
  
Yeah that's me right now.  
  
Out of control and losing more by the day.  
  
I don't know what happened to that guy but he was alive when I left him. I don't know if he climbed off that roof of his own or if he's still there. I'm a little afraid to go back and look.  
  
I step into the shower and turn on the water. The hot liquid splashes against my skin, burning into my flesh. I hiss in pain but I don't move away. I start to rub at my body, trying to get all the filth off.  
  
Real or imagined.  
  
I look down at my body and my eyes fall across the inch long wound on my side. It's more a redish welt than an open wound now. It's healing. It'll probably scar.  
  
Good.  
  
My shoulder aches as I move it in a tight circle. This one is more problematic. The bullet hit the bone hard and I probably should have worn the sling but I guess I really haven't been all about taking care of myself.  
  
My shower ends too quickly. I could have drawn it out longer but the water had begun to cool and that brought me back to reality.  
  
I don't know what to do.  
  
I don't know how to get out of this mess.  
  
I suppose I could crawl on my hands and knees back to Barbara and beg for her to help me.  
  
I know well enough to know that she'd do it in a minute. She'll always try to protect me. Even against common sense.  
  
Even when she hates me.  
  
It's just her way.  
  
But what would that do to her?  
  
See this is how it works; Mick releases the pictures clearly showing me to be involved in killing a bunch of officers. Barbara hides me but the cops know full well that she's doing it so they never leave her alone. Not for a moment. Her life becomes a nightmare.  
  
And all that good she does gets washed away because she's under a magnifying glass thanks to me.  
  
I can't do that.  
  
I start to pull clothes on. All black. Leather pants.  
  
Great.  
  
Not that I don't like leather but in the mood I'm in, I'm not much for playing these games with Mick. Not to mention that I'm really freaked out by the fact that these are my clothes which means he's been in my apartment.  
  
The walls are closing in on me.  
  
Either way I'm trapped.  
  
Either way I destroy both Barbara and myself.  
  
So I guess the only option I have is to let Mick take me down this path. Eventually it'll end. Eventually we'll both be stopped.  
  
Hopefully by then it won't matter.  
  
And maybe she'll hate me so much by then that it'll actually be easy.  
  
Yeah, that would be good.  
  
That would be good.  
  
She folded her hands together under her chin and gazed out at the cool brisk morning. The day was overcast but she could still see hints of the sun peaking out under the grayish clouds. Just the same, it was likely to come down again by nightfall.  
  
"Barbara?" Dinah asked, slipping around behind her mentor. She placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "You've been out here all night."  
  
"I have a blanket," Barbara replied, with more than a hint of amusement.  
  
"So totally not the point," Dinah laughed. "If I'd done this I'd be getting myself settled in for the mother of all smackdowns."  
  
Barbara shook her head. "Sometimes you sound so much like her."  
  
"Barbara, she's alive still. She's going through something but we're going to get her back," Dinah assured her. Then she paused thoughtfully. "You've been sitting out here all night thinking about her?"  
  
"Yeah," Barbara sighed. "I talked to Reese last night. He tried to talk to her but she pretty much blew him off. He said she was plastered."  
  
"Did you expect otherwise?"  
  
Barbara shook her head. "No. I know Helena. What she's doing, it's so her. It's so damn her." She slammed her hand hard against the armrest of her chair and Dinah jumped a bit in reaction. "She never thinks. She never remembers that she has people who love her and want to help her."  
  
"She knows," Dinah replied quietly. "Isn't that part of why she left? Because she was afraid of letting you down?"  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"No, not something like that. That."  
  
"Okay fine. Fine. But you know what, we could have worked through this. We could have made her understand."  
  
Dinah kneeled down next to Barbara and clasped her hands. "You don't believe that. You told me once that nobody convinces Helena Kyle of anything until she's ready to be convinced. You said it yourself, she thinks she's a monster. Until she believes otherwise, we'll be hitting our heads against the wall. Collectively."  
  
Barbara narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "Dinah, while I'm thankful for what you're saying, I don't quite buy it from you." She paused. "Alfred then?"  
  
Dinah grinned. "Yeah. Caught." She shook her head, her blonde hair flying out. Drops of water trickled down from a recently taken shower. "Couldn't sleep last night. He was still around." She wrinkled her nose. "How is that he didn't bring you inside?"  
  
Barbara laughed. "Oh I dodged him like crazy."  
  
"There's a mental image," Dinah giggled.  
  
"Indeed," Alfred said from the doorway. He was looking down at the two of them with one of his patented stern glares. "You should know better Miss Barbara."  
  
"I should," she admitted. "But how much fun would that be?"  
  
"Heavens no," he drolled "We simply can't have you not staying outdoors in sub zero weather. Pneumonia? What is that?"  
  
"Ooh, he's good," Dinah laughed.  
  
"Don't encourage him," Barbara chuckled. She held up her hands to indicate that she was giving in. "Fine, okay. Fine fine. We'll go inside."  
  
"A bit late now," Alfred replied, still watching her with that same disapproving gaze. It was clear that he'd be holding this one over her for awhile. He sighed. "Just the same, breakfast is ready."  
  
Barbara turned her chair back towards the door and wheeled herself in. The warmth of the Clocktower hit her like pie to the face. She inhaled sharply as the sudden temperature change made her shiver.  
  
"Hey, I didn't tell you," Dinah started. "I did some research on this Zeus guy of yours."  
  
"Oh?" Barbara queried, eyebrow lifted. "You mean on Delphi?"  
  
"Not exactly," Dinah replied. "Did I ever tell you that Gaby's father used to write for the Gotham newspaper?"  
  
"What's his name again?" Barbara asked as she accepted a plate from Alfred. He followed it up with a glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee.  
  
"Bryan Kirk."  
  
Barbara thumped herself in the head. "Right, right. He was one of the street reporters. He did a lot of coverage on the Table."  
  
"Yep," Dinah said. "Apparently a lot of his stories got shelved. Anyways, he's out of town so..."  
  
"You went through his personal files?" Barbara finished, throwing the girl her best mother look.  
  
Dinah snorted. "Doesn't work coming from you oh great Oracle."  
  
She sighed dramatically. "Had to try." She took a sip from her mug and then looked back up at the blonde. "Well alright then, what did you find?"  
  
"Word is that this Zeus guy just relocated. He never stopped," Dinah said as she turned away from her mentor. She bent down over a bag and pulled out several print-outs. "One of his articles."  
  
Barbara took the offered pages and began to thumb threw them. She stopped when she got to one that had a headline that read: Zeus May Not Be Completely Gone.  
  
"Huh," she muttered. "Son of a bitch."  
  
Dinah could barely keep her jaw off the table. "Oh my God. Did you...did you just say that?"  
  
Barbara snorted indelicately. "I did. Don't look so shocked."  
  
"Sorry," Dinah said, holding up her hands. "Okay, so what does all of this mean?"  
  
"Batman figured that he had chased Zeus out of town but it looks like he was always going to relocate. Too many of the families were falling apart during that time. We were just lucky."  
  
"Now he's back," Dinah noted, munching on a piece of buttered toast.  
  
"Yeah but why?" Barbara muttered, more to herself than to anyone else. "It can't be just to import Topside. As much havoc as it's caused, that's still fairly pedestrian."  
  
"What ever happened to the other members of the Table? The other clans?" Dinah asked thoughtfully. "Are they still all around? I mean besides Hawke?"  
  
"Not sure. Not exactly I mean. I know there are a few." She shook her head. "We need to get Reese in on this. He'll know more. Or at least he should."  
  
"This is good right?" Dinah said, her voice suddenly very low.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"The distraction. I mean, working on something that doesn't involve Helena?"  
  
Barbara nodded slowly. "Business as usual, Dinah. Topside was used against Helena but she's far from the first person to do something against her will because of it. And I still believe that Zeus is up to more than just mind- altering drugs. So yes, this really isn't about Helena. And yes, that's probably a good thing right now."  
  
"Okay," Dinah said with a frown. "But that doesn't change things right? I mean we are going to bring her home right?"  
  
"Of course," Barbara confirmed. "When the time is right and when she's ready. In the meanwhile, call Reese. Ask him to come over here. He doesn't have anything better to do if I'm not mistaken and I think we could really use an update on the Table."  
  
"On it," Dinah grinned, glad to have something to do.  
  
Barbara watched her slip out of the kitchen and move down towards the lower level, hair swinging as she walked.  
  
Even through all of this the girl was still so damn bright and upbeat.  
  
And you know what, thank God that.  
  
It's almost seven at night. I slept though the first two dozen calls to my apartment. Sleeping pills will do that to you.  
  
I didn't mean to pass out for as long as I did but I really did need more than three hours of sleep. My body is exhausted. I'm just plain worn down and out.  
  
I step into the Clocktower and walk down towards the lower level. I can see Barbara down there hunched over her row of computers. Her hair is tied back away from her face and she's wearing her glasses.  
  
Uh oh, full study mode.  
  
"Hey," I say as I descend the stairs rapidly. My heel knocks against the last step and I hiss in pain. My leg still hurts like crazy. I smack the butt of one of my crutches against the wall in irritation and them move towards Barbara.  
  
She turns and smiles at me. I can see how weary she looks but I know better than to mention it. Hey, she's still a woman and my mom didn't raise no fool; you don't ever tell a woman that she looks less than wonderful.  
  
Ever.  
  
"Reese," she nods. "How are you feeling?"  
  
I grunt as a drop down into a chair. "I'm just about done with these crutches," I tell her. That's certainly the truth, my patience with these wooden sticks from hell is just about nonexistent now.  
  
Just the same, my leg still hurts like hell. I can only put a little pressure on it so the crutches have to stay.  
  
At least for now.  
  
"I can imagine," she smirks, her eyes drifting down to her lap. I want to smack myself for thinking about walking with a little inconvenience when she can't at all. Her immediate look tells me not to think that. Okay, she's glaring at me. Yeah, that's how I can tell.  
  
"So, what's up?" I ask, trying to change the subject. Even if it is an unspoken one. "Dinah said you had some questions about my father."  
  
"Not just specifically," she replies, turning back towards one of the computers. I watch her fingers fly over the keyboard and I'm lost in the blur of motion. "The screen," she says suddenly, grinning at me.  
  
"How fast do you type?" I ask, shaking my head. "Because I hunt and peck."  
  
"A hundred and thirty words on a good day maybe ninety on an off morning."  
  
"Uh huh. An off morning," I chuckle. I move closer to her to look at the screen she's pulled up. She indicates for me to stay seated and she swivels the monitor towards me. "The Table," I mutter. "God, I haven't heard talk of that in years."  
  
Barbara reaches down to the table and picks up a small silver charm. She hands it to me and I turn it over in my palm. I whistle hard, the sound echoing in the suddenly stale air.  
  
"Zeus," she says, quite unnecessarily. I'd know this emblem anywhere. The man was one of my father's most hated rivals.  
  
And they had to break bread for the sake of the Table.  
  
"Wow. Where did you get this?"  
  
"It fell off a thug that Dinah tangled with last night. He was wearing it around his neck. That would mean he belongs to the Zeus clan, right?"  
  
"Yeah," I confirm. "But I didn't think the clans were in effect anymore. After the earthquake, most of them pretty much went their own way. Went into business on their own and all."  
  
"So could we be dealing with someone just wearing an old necklace?"  
  
I turn the emblem over in my palm again. "No," I say, shaking my head. I indicate towards the lightening strike on it. "This is different. It's mostly the same but it's still different. I'd say it's new. Besides, after the Table disbanded, all former members were banned from ever speaking about their clans. A protective measure I guess."  
  
That's kind of true, kind of not.  
  
By the time the Table disbanded, all of it's members were fighting with each other. What had originally started as a conglomerate with the intention of ruling Gotham had quickly dissolved into an all-out turf war.  
  
My father, Zeus, Castle.Tiger, Apollo and Bulldog.  
  
Six seats to the table.  
  
My father and Zeus at each end.  
  
I'd been just a small boy when they had all come together.  
  
When it had finally fallen apart, I'd been graduating college.  
  
I think somewhere I still have a necklace with a hawk on it. My father gave it to me when I was ten years old. I didn't realize what it was then but the moment I did, I buried it in a drawer.  
  
I think it's back in my room at my mom's house.  
  
"Reese?" Barbara says to me, her voice very soft. She seems to know that she's pulling me out of my thoughts. Out of my past.  
  
"I'm here," I mumble, blinking several times. I look up at her and see the concern in her eyes. Immediately I feel terrible; she doesn't need to be worrying about me as well. Lord knows with Helena pulling the kamikaze routine that she is, Barbara certainly has enough to worry about.  
  
"Their names? I remember a few...some were never known..."  
  
"Al Hawke was obviously Hawk. Marco Jameson was or I guess is Zeus..."  
  
"Kristopher Castle was Castle," she puts in. She stops when she sees my look. "What?"  
  
"I was close with Castle's only son," I say. Then I wave my hand. I don't want to talk about it. "Anyways, Tiger was Joe Lucazzi. Bulldog was Gordon Hayward."  
  
"And then the mysterious Apollo..."  
  
"Doesn't really matter," I say. "Apollo has been dead a very long time. Maybe six years now."  
  
Her eyebrows shoot straight up. It's almost amusing. "You're kidding," she breathes. "What happened?"  
  
"He was shot to death," I say, almost hesitantly. I take a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. "By me."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I never saw Apollo at the Table meets. He always sent his son-in-law who had a different last name than he did. I guess he was hyper-protecting his identity. I thought that was weird then but I later figured out why."  
  
"Well don't leave me hanging here," she says, eyes wide. I almost laugh at the child-like amusement and intrigue I see in her. This is all so fascinating to her.  
  
It's a trip back down an ugly tunnel for me.  
  
"Apollo was the deputy commissioner. Paul Chuting."  
  
Her jaw visibly drops. "Christ," she mutters. "I always knew that something was off about how he died. The police files just said that he died in action..."  
  
"The brass decided to cover it up. Apollo had several children who had nothing to do with what he'd been doing and they decided that those kids shouldn't suffer. But covering it up they allowed the kids to inherit from their father."  
  
"So how did it happen?" she asks me.  
  
I close my eyes. I actually feel like I'm six years back. I can see it all so clearly. It was my first kill. Which is not to say that I've had many. Three now.  
  
Just three.  
  
All of them really bad guys.  
  
Yes. Really bad.  
  
"My partner I got called to the docks by some anonymous tip. We figured it for a bum causing trouble. When we got there find some guys offloading heroin from a yacht. That's when I saw Chuting. I thought he'd just come out to make the bust himself. I was about to call out to him when I heard one of the guys near him call him Apollo. That's when I saw the ring he was wearing."  
  
"I'm sorry," Barbara says. She seems to understand how much this revelation hurt me. Chuting was one of my mentors when I first became a cop. He pushed me forward, guided my career.  
  
Now looking back, I don't know why. Was he trying to stick it to my father or was he trying to create another cop? Another in for the Table. To this day I still don't know.  
  
I'm not sure I want to know.  
  
"Yeah," I say softly, nodding at her concern. "Anyways, I chase after him and finally get him cornered near the rear of the yacht. He doesn't make any excuses...I remember that. He just tells me it's how it's supposed to be and I should know that. I tell him I'm taking in him. He says I'm not. He shoots at me. I shoot back."  
  
"You killed him?"  
  
"I did. My partner..."  
  
"McNally?"  
  
I snort. "Always McNally." And that's the truth. The big man has been my partner since day one. Often kicking and screaming I might add. "He backed me up. The brass buried it. That was pretty much the end of it."  
  
"Okay then, so Apollo is dead. Could they be trying to reform the table?"  
  
"I suppose," I say. "But with only four seats? I mean my dad is behind bars." I stop and shake my head. "Besides, there's no way that Castle would ever work with Zeus again."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Zeus murdered one of Castle's daughters as a warning to him. He left her body in the foyer of the house. I just can't see Castle forgiving that."  
  
"I'd imagine not," Barbara says with a tilt of her head. "Okay, so then what is Zeus up to? Because I just don't buy just importing drugs. I don't."  
  
I look at her for a long moment and then sigh. "Neither do I. That's too little league for Zeus."  
  
"So?"  
  
I chuckle. "So."  
  
We both stare hard at each other, searching the other for answers.  
  
None come.  
  
Damn.  
  
She cocked her head to the side and stared at him with irritation on her blue eyes. "You're kidding me, right?"  
  
"Nope," he replied, handing her a black ski-mask. "Not at all."  
  
"You're gonna have me rob a liquor store? This is why you had to have me. God, my life really does suck," Helena Kyle complained.  
  
Mick laughed. "Relax baby, it's not like that all. Just have to make sure you're actually with us."  
  
"I said I was didn't I? I mean you kind of have me bent over a barrel."  
  
Mick grinned lecherously at her. "Not a barrel babe." Then he snorted. "Nevermind that. You do have something of a track record of double-crossing me so you know, there does have to be a test."  
  
"Whatever," she muttered. "So then, what's the plan? Steal some smokes and skin mags?"  
  
"Something like that. Look, when you get in there your job is to knock the cashier out. Just out. Not dead but I do want him cold, get me?"  
  
"Sure," she said, trying not to show her relief. She'd been afraid that Mick was going to try to force her to kill so soon.  
  
"Good," he replied. "Now put this on." He held out a necklace to her.  
  
She laughed, the tone of it cruel. "Aww, that's sweet but you know what, I really don't want to go steady with you." She wrinkled her nose. "You're not my type."  
  
"I'm so completely your type," he said with a chuckle. "But put it on anyways. It's not about you and me. It's about us." He pointed towards one of the other men who was getting ready. She could see that he was wearing a necklace as well. The van they were in jolted a bit as it passed over a pothole and she saw an identical necklace fall out of Mick's shirt.  
  
She took the necklace and turned it over. The charm at the end showed a lightening bolt. Shaking her head in disgust she put it around her neck. She didn't completely buy that he wasn't trying to be possessive.  
  
"Let's ride," he said with a grin.  
  
"We're here," the driver called back.  
  
Helena glanced around at the group she was with. Two large burly men who went by Karl and Adam and of course Mick. A small team really.  
  
But then they were only knocking out a cashier and stealing a little swag. Nothing big. Just a small fight. All good.  
  
"Masks on group. Let's make this clean," Mick said. He reached up and yanked the black mask down over his eyes. With the Animal Gang supposedly dead and out of it, it made no sense for him to be announcing himself wearing one of the old masks but there ones were somehow just as menacing.  
  
"Just knock out," Helena muttered, mind whirling. She wasn't completely convinced that she about to do what it looked like she was about to do. She pulled the mask over her eyes and then followed Mick and the two men out of the van.  
  
"Lock and load," Mick said, holding up a gun. He offered one to Helena but she waved him off. She could tell that he was grinning at her from under the mask.  
  
The taller of the two men, Adam walked to the glass doors and pushed them open, stepping into the store with his gun raised up into the air. "Everyone down," he bellowed.  
  
Helena followed a few feet behind. The liquor store was mostly empty save a young man looking at Vodka in the back and a pretty brunette behind the counter. The girl swallowed hard but stayed where she was standing.  
  
"Helena," Mick called out, his voice muffled. "Do it."  
  
She blinked and stared at the girl who was looking back at her in defiant fear. She swallowed and started to move towards her. One hit. One good hard hit to the jaw.  
  
One hit.  
  
The girl pulled out a gun and aimed it right at her.  
  
Without thinking Helena lashed out with her foot and kicked the girl directly in the chest. The gun fired, the barrel pointed straight up. The bullet lodged in the ceiling, denting it to the point of near collapse.  
  
"Fuck," Helena cursed. She looked down at saw the girl trying to stagger to her feet. "Stay down," she hissed.  
  
The girl didn't listen.  
  
She put her hand against Helena's leg and tugged hard, bringing the brunette to her knees.  
  
"Mick?" Karl asked. "Should we..."  
  
"No," he said. "Don't worry. Just empty the cash drawer." He cocked his head. "And grab some smokes."  
  
"Bitch," the girl screamed at Helena, reaching out to slap her face. Her long nails scraped across Helena's face, cutting the fabric of the mask away and leaving a bloody wake.  
  
Helena hissed in pain, her eyes dilating into hard slits. Reaching out with a balled fist she cracked the girl across the jaw and then followed it up with a knee to her throat.  
  
The girl sagged to the ground in a heap.  
  
"Well done," Mick said, coming up behind her. "We're uh...ready to go if you are."  
  
"No one said anything about a fucking gun," Helena screamed at him, anger tensing every muscle of her body. "I'm am so sick and tired of guns."  
  
He took her by the shoulder. "That's great but the cops are on their way. Unless you want to forget our deal and just go straight to prison anyways, I would advise moving your ass."  
  
She growled at him but finally pushed him away and stalked out the door, ripping her mask off as soon as she was outside the liquor store. She was still cursing in anger as she walked towards the van. The driver pushed the door open to allow her entrance.  
  
Mick turned towards Karl and the pointed at the girl behind the counter. "Kill her."  
  
"Bullet through the head?" Karl asked.  
  
Mick shook his head. "I need it to look like she was beaten to death." He indicated back towards the van. "By her. Can you do it?"  
  
"No worries." He paused. "What about the camera?"  
  
Mick frowned. "That." He pointed his pistol towards the overhead surveillance camera and fired a single shot. It exploded in a blast of glass, metal and sparks. "Gone."  
  
"Nice," Karl said appreciatively.  
  
"Good. Get it done and get back."  
  
"On it boss," Karl muttered, crossing back behind the counter.  
  
Mick grasped Adam by the shoulder and pulled him towards the van. He pulled the door shut behind them as the crawled in. "Drive."  
  
The driver turned over the engine and moved the van out into the alley. In the near distance sirens echoed through the cold night.  
  
"Where's the other guy?" Helena asked from where she was leaning heavily against the far wall. Her body was rigid and trembling and her hands were clenched into such hard fists that her nails were cutting into her palms.  
  
"He had other business," Mick said. "Don't worry about him." He crossed over to sit next to her. Reaching over he lifted her mask off to reveal several long bloody gashes across her face. He hissed in reaction. "Ouch."  
  
She sat up and looked up at him, blue eyes full of anger but somehow also completely defeated. "You set me up didn't you?"  
  
He didn't reply.  
  
"You're gonna kill her and you made sure I was on camera beating her." She shook her head. "Son of a bitch."  
  
He just grinned at her. He reached down and took her hand. "Welcome to the team babe."  
  
She dropped back against the wall, her head thudding against the metal. She clenched her eyes tightly, forcing back the tears. She wasn't about to let him see how upset she was.  
  
She wasn't about to let him think he had broken her.  
  
But the next thing he said just about did her in.  
  
"You're one of us now," he laughed.  
  
Her eyes rolled back and she sagged against him, her body losing complete control. The last thing she heard before she passed out was him laughing.  
  
She vowed to kill him.  
  
TBC... 


	3. 3

It's a snowy Saturday morning and I'm still here. If I were a normal sixteen year old I'd probably be out meeting up with my posse already. You know, scaring the hell out of mall security guards everywhere with my youthful exuberance.  
  
But I'm not and I'm even getting used to that.  
  
So instead of being out at some teen joint in midtown, I'm wandering around the Clocktower, annoying the living hell out of Barbara.  
  
Serves her right; she's been doing it to me for almost three weeks now.  
  
Ever since Helena took off.  
  
"Dinah," I hear Barbara mutter. Her voice is low and I can tell that I'm about to be read the riot act. I turn towards her and offer her my brightest smile. I see her look melt from irritation to acceptance. She sights dramatically and I watch the tension ebb away from her.  
  
Okay, yeah, that was a cheap shot.  
  
Got a problem with that?  
  
"Is he still sleeping?" I ask.  
  
"Who?" she queries, her eyebrow quirked at me. Then she seems to understand what I'm getting at. "Oh! Reese." She points back towards the training room with her thumb. "He's lying down on the futon in there."  
  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"Just overmedicated," she laughs. "He took a few too many painkillers for his leg. He should be up and around shortly." She shakes her head. "It was getting dicey for a few minutes there though. I thought he was about to start singing ballads."  
  
"Note to self; Reese with the meds is bad," I grin.  
  
"That's about right," she chuckles.  
  
"So," I say, sitting down on the table. She glares at me but I ignore her. I know she wants me to get up but I don't plan to. It's fun to annoy her. It's usually Helena's job but with her MIA, it becomes my duty. "Whatcha doing?"  
  
"Mmm? Oh. Checking into that convenience store robbery from late last night."  
  
"Why?" I ask. I know I'm probably really starting to get on her nerves but damn I'm bored. I could use some action. I could use something to get my blood pumping.  
  
Wow, I didn't realize how much like her I'm becoming.  
  
Her being Helena of course.  
  
She turns her chair to look at me. She reaches up to her face and removes her glasses. She sighs impatiently. "Is your homework done?"  
  
"It's Saturday," I reply with a grin. "And any I did have, I'm not doing today. Or tonight. Or anytime other than late tomorrow evening." I stick my tongue out at her and she laughs. In spite of herself.  
  
Yeah, it's my job these days to try to keep things light.  
  
We have enough to worry about.  
  
"Fine," she replies. "Then what about Gabby? Why don't you..."  
  
"You're trying to get rid of me," I sing out. She blanches a bit, as if caught. She stumbles for an explanation, about a thousand looks crossing her face in a few seconds.  
  
"No," she says quickly. Then she stops and sighs. "Yes, I'm sorry. Yes."  
  
"It's okay," I say, standing up. "I can go out on patrol, see what's out there."  
  
"I'd rather you didn't," she says, her eyes back on the screen. I see her frown and then she starts punching keys, her short manicured nails clipping against the low buttons. "Besides, it's only nine in the morning. Unless you're out looking for newspaper thieves, I think you're gonna have a slow day."  
  
I choose to ignore her commentary on the early-bird thugs. She's not wrong though. My sense of time is so mucked up these days. Has been ever since I came to live with her. "What's up?" I ask, moving closer to her. I move a cup of coffee away from her hand and lean over her shoulder. I catch the soft aroma of strawberry shampoo rising up from her hair.  
  
She points towards the screen. There are two pictures there. One of them is a color photo that looks like a high school mug shot...I mean yearbook picture. Shush now.  
  
The other one is a black and white crime scene photo.  
  
They're both of the same girl. A third item on the screen in a different window is a police report. It gives her name as Jenny Thompson, age 27.  
  
"She was killed in the robbery last night," Barbara tells me.  
  
I lift an eyebrow. "The convenience store one?"  
  
"Right," she mumbles. I wonder why she's so interested in this. It seems like normal everyday crime. Certainly not worthy of the great Oracle and her wayward wards,  
  
Okay okay, I'm on a roll.  
  
Somebody stop me.  
  
"So," I say, trying to be cool. "What's the what?"  
  
"I did some research on our girl..."  
  
"Why?" I ask, touching her arm. "I mean, why her?"  
  
"I do research on every victim," she retorts, not unkindly. I know she's lying though and I wonder why. I know her too well. She does usually check into the identities of people who get killed around New Gotham but not to this degree. Especially not when the crime looks so cut and dry.  
  
"Barbara," I say softly. "We couldn't have stopped it."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that," she replies. She highlights a portion of the police report. I see messy scrawl there but the words are still legible. It says: daughter of Joe Lucazzi.  
  
"So?" I say as I shake my head. I blow a strand of hair away from my eyes and end up eating it. I hate when I do that. Vitamins are one thing but come on now.  
  
She turns back towards me. Her hand snakes out to grab at the mug of coffee that I had relocated. She takes two quick gulps and then groans. "Cold," she mutters. She slides over to the opposite table and settles the mug on a pulsating red disk. It's some kind of heater plate. "Lucazzi is a member of the Table. He used to go by the handle of Tiger."  
  
"And considering how we just found a necklace from this Zeus guy we're thinking..."  
  
"Totally not coincidental," she finishes for me. She smiles suddenly as she looks past me. "Just the man I wanted to see."  
  
I turn a few inches to see whom she's talking to even though I already know. I can hear the heavy thump of crutches scraping across the floor. That means it's gotta be Reese.  
  
Damn I'm good.  
  
I nod to him as he approaches. He offers me his crutches and then falls into a chair just to the right of where Barbara and I are seated. I take them from him and lean them against the table. "How are you feeling?" I ask. I grin at him. "Better? Less drugged?"  
  
He snorts at me and then opens his mouth to protest. I lift my eyebrow to let him know that no matter what he says, I'm so not buying. He seems to get it and just flicks his hand in the air. He turns his attention to Barbara. "What's up?"  
  
"You ever know a daughter of Lucazzi's named Jenny?" she asks him. I can see that she's studying his face, looking for a reaction.  
  
She gets one.  
  
His face falls a bit as if he knows what she's about to say.  
  
He nods slowly. "Yeah." His words are thick and heavy. "Why?"  
  
"She's dead," Barbara says, her voice softening. She seems to understand that this upsets him. I get that too. I wonder who this girl was to him. I'm guessing we're about to find out. "I'm sorry."  
  
He blows out air, his mouth forming a perfect circle. It's weird to describe that. I think to myself that even though I must have done the same thing a thousand times, it looks strange when someone else is doing it. "It's been years," he starts. "I haven't seen her since we were both nineteen. Years."  
  
"Reese," Barbara starts, sounding uncertain. "I have doubts about this being..."  
  
"I know," Reese cuts in. "It was a hit. Zeus had her killed. I don't know why though. I mean she hasn't talked to her dad in years. Or at least she wasn't talking to him back when we were dating."  
  
Okay then, there it is.  
  
A former honey of his. Well that makes sense. He looks upset. I get that; his love life lately has been pretty much the suck.  
  
"Didn't like his line of work?" Barbara prompts.  
  
"Jenny came from an affair with a maid. Tiger's wife had the maid killed and they raised her as their own. After she found out the truth, she didn't really want a hell of a lot to do with her old man."  
  
"I can imagine," Barbara mumbles.  
  
So can I.  
  
Okay no I can't.  
  
I always knew that my adoptive parents were just that- not real. It's probably how I survived them. Even as angry as I was at my real mom for leaving me behind, I always knew that the abuse was coming from people who weren't my flesh and blood. Helped me to deal.  
  
But what if one did I had woken up to realize that they had killed my real mother and my entire life was a lie? Yeah, I think I'd be pretty pissed too.  
  
Still though, night and day.  
  
"I can't see that changing," Reese says, his eyes still on the screen. His pain is obvious. I don't know what he felt for her but what he's thinking of right now is the past and the girl he used to know. "But then again, it was almost eight years ago that we talked. We were just...we were going separate ways."  
  
Barbara squeezes his shoulder. "You don't owe us an explanation," she reminds him. Then she shakes her head. "So why would Zeus have her killed? She can't be a threat to him."  
  
He lifts an eyebrow at her. His look seems to challenge her. "She's an heir to one of the seats at the Table. In or out of the family, she's always a threat."  
  
"So what you're saying is..."  
  
"Zeus is staking a claim to the lead seat and removing anyone who could challenge him." Reese pauses as if he suddenly understands what he's saying. "Anyone."  
  
I feel my heart drop to my toes.  
  
Wow.  
  
Do me a favor huh? When someone tells you not to ever say that things can't get worse, don't okay?  
  
Don't because guess what, they will.  
  
They will always get worse.

* * *

The nightmare finally released her back into the waking world just seconds after Wolf's face exploded into red dust. Bone turned to mush and flew towards her but the girls' lips were still moving.  
  
"I'll get you," Wolf said, even in death.  
  
She had never said that of course but in the nightmare world where reality merged with subconscious terrors, that hardly mattered.  
  
Not a wick really.  
  
Her eyelids ripped open and she began to gasp for air. She could feel salt on her cheeks and she knew immediately that she had been crying in her sleep. That wasn't so unusual. She wasn't the type to cry openly and easily so often her mind took care of business while her body was resting.  
  
She tried to jerk upwards but she felt arms around her waist. She sagged backwards, momentarily caught and off guard.  
  
"Reese?" she stammered, reaching down for the arms. She blinked when she realized that she was being held by a man with white skin. Not Reese then.  
  
"Easy baby," Mick mumbled, digging his face into her neck. He pressed a kiss to her skin and tightened his hold on her. He continued to nuzzle her, his lips wet against her flesh.  
  
She blinked, reality sliding over her like a black cloak. Using both of her hands she shoved away from him and pushed herself to her feet. "No," she growled. "No, no, no."  
  
He sat up in bed, looking disorientated and confused. He was almost handsome in his boyishness.  
  
Almost.  
  
Then she remembered all he had done to her. All he was trying to bring out in her. And all he was willing to do to ensure what he wanted.  
  
That kinda killed the cute thing.  
  
"Kyle?" he said softly. "What's your issue?"  
  
Helena reached out for a blanket and yanked it around her naked body. She brought it up over her bare chest and glared down at him. "You just don't take no for an answer do you?"  
  
He laughed. "Well first off you never said no," he replied, altogether too smugly. "And second, nothing happened. Relax. You passed out in the van last night and I brought you back here."  
  
"And stripped me down?" she demanded, anger tensing her body.  
  
"You were in leather, babe. Not exactly comfortable."  
  
She sighed. He wasn't wrong about that. Sleeping in leather was a definite no. Just the same, she wasn't stupid enough to dismiss his actions as altruistic. She knew better; Mick Collins was completely out for himself. Add to that the fact that he himself was also obviously naked and well two and two really did add up.  
  
"I'm heading out," she said gruffly. "I need clothes."  
  
"You can wear mine," he said, pointing towards a dresser. "We tossed yours from the heist last night. You know, get rid of the evidence."  
  
"Aww how sweet. And also convenient," Helena muttered, yanking open the top drawer of the dresser. She pulled out a pair of jeans and then a tee shirt. She had no real desire to wear his clothes but she figured it would only be until she got back to her place.  
  
Wearing a lovers clothing was such an intimate thing and she had no intention of letting Mick get the satisfaction of thinking that she belonged to him. He wasn't her lover. She knew he'd beg to differ but that really wasn't her problem.  
  
"You gonna go commando in my jeans?" Mick asked with a grin. "I mean not that I mind."  
  
She snorted loudly. "Not in your fucking dreams."  
  
She yanked open a drawer and pulled out a pair of boxers. She wasn't anymore thrilled to be wearing his underwear but she figured she could temper it by burning everything after she took it off.  
  
Just to let him know just how much he meant to her.  
  
Not childish or anything.  
  
"Whatever you say babe," Mick replied, crossing his hands behind his head and leaning back against the wall. The sheet slipped down to reveal a very tanned and muscled chest. He was a good-looking man but the whole psycho killer bit was something of a turn-off.  
  
She turned suddenly, anger igniting her blue eyes. "You fucking set me up you stupid bastard," she hissed. She took a step towards him, momentarily forgetting that she was only half dressed.  
  
His eyes widened but he didn't seem alarmed so much as amused. "I did what I had to do to let you know that I will do whatever needs to be done to keep you with us. You're part of us now, Helena. No mistaking that."  
  
She growled at him and took two more predatory steps towards him. He just laughed at her. "I could kill you right now," she said to him, deadly serious. "And you know it."  
  
He nodded. "I know it babe. It's why I love you. And yeah, you could kill me but it wouldn't do you any good. You see my computer had an auto-send function. If I don't disable it every night at exactly eleven, it'll send those lovely photos from the ball right over to the cop shop. Now tell me, do you really want to spend the rest of your life taking it from guards who think you're just too damn cute?"  
  
"Fuck you," she snapped.  
  
"Man, you get gutter when you're pissed," he mused. Then he sighed. "Relax Helena, just relax. That was it...that was my last test. That was my last trap. It was just a warning shot, that's all. I think you get me now, right?"  
  
She sighed, looking defeated. "I get you."  
  
"Good," he said, standing up. He reached under the bed and offered her a pair of his sneakers. "We tossed your boots too. Sorry about that." He turned his back to her and walked towards the bar on the side of the room. It was more like a table with a few tumblers on it but it was something. He went into the refrigerator under the table and took out a bottle of what looked like orange juice. He poured it into a glass and handed it to her. "Drink. It'll wake you up."  
  
"Does it have vodka in it?"  
  
He laughed. "No. Just some quality OJ. Florida fresh."  
  
"Whatever," she muttered, draining the glass in three gulps. She dropped back down to the bed and yanked on the shoes. Then rising again she started for the door. "So, when then?"  
  
"I'll call you. Just relax. Take it easy." He narrowed his eyes. "And don't be stupid. Don't think you can go around us and not be caught. You can't. I'm always..."  
  
"Stalking me, I know," she replied, irritation in her voice.  
  
"Watching you love," he suggested. "Just watching you." He crossed over to her and kissed her on the lips. She pulled away but he didn't seem bothered. He took her hand and kissed it. "You'll come around, I have faith in that. In the meanwhile, just be smart."  
  
She turned away from him, eyes full of anger and despair. She grabbed at the metal doorknob and jerked the door open. Her feet hit the ground hard but the soft sneakers were almost completely silent save a few scuffs.  
  
She stepped out into the icy cold morning and took a deep breath. Snow was falling in tiny wet clumps. She was standing outside of a large warehouse in the Red Zone. She could see a few small fires burning in the alleys where some vagrants were trying to keep dry and warm.  
  
She sighed and then started back towards her apartment, wrapping her arms around her waist. She had pulled on a long-sleeve shirt but she rather figured that the cold was something else anyways.  
  
Something far more internal.

* * *

         I have way too much caffeine running through my blood right about now. Eight cups of coffee and a half-liter of Pepsi. My fingers are dancing over the keyboard and I feel like I'm jittering every which way. I probably am.  
  
"Hey, you okay?" Reese asks from my left. I look up at him and I'm shocked that he managed to sneak up on me. That's not like me at all. Of course at this moment, I'm not exactly like me.  
  
"Fine," I say slowly. At least I think slowly. It's possible that all of my words are overlapping right now. "I'm just downloading the surveillance video from the store. Maybe we can gather some clues from it."  
  
"Huh?" he says. He's laughing at me. "Did you just say that we could download donkey porn from the police station?"  
  
I smack his arm. "I certainly did not!"  
  
Okay, maybe I did.  
  
It's possible.  
  
"Sure, sure," he says. "Whatever you say." He's humoring me. Laughing at my expense. Usually I'd be annoyed but right now I'm relieved. I know he's upset right now. Even though he hadn't seen the girl in eight years, she's still part of his past. People like to have their own chance to get closure, not have it forced on them. Reese doesn't have that option now.  
  
"How are you?" I ask softly, squeezing his forearm. These last several weeks have been hell for him too. Almost four weeks ago he was in a very steady relationship with Helena, whatever it be. Now he's just like us, hoping that she'll hold on and one day come back to us.  
  
Wondering when he'll snap and go drag her ass back to us, kicking and screaming if need be.  
  
That time is coming quick.  
  
For all of us.  
  
"I'm dealing," Reese replies and I can tell that he's talking about more than just Jenny Thompson. He's got his plate full with Jenny, Helena and this whole drama with Zeus.  
  
"Hey guys," Dinah calls out from the elevator. We both turn to see her entering the room. My eyes are immediately drawn to a long bloody scratch on her cheek.  
  
"What the hell happened to you?" I hiss, turning towards her. I wheel over to her and put my hand up to her face but she brushes me away. I pull back stunned. She rarely shakes me off.  
  
"Nothing," she says, quite out of breath. This is when I notice that her eyes are large and she looks excited. "Everything...everything."  
  
"Dinah, slow down," I instruct her, putting a hand on her arm. I point towards Reese. "Get me the med kit from under the desk."  
  
He nods and slides his hand under the wooden table. He feels around for a few moments before he finally bumps into the white box. He unhooks it and then offers it to me. That's what I notice that Dinah is still breathing hard, still trying to get everything back in rhythm.  
  
"Dinah?" Reese asks, concern in his eyes.  
  
"I'm fine...I'm fine. I...I...I..."  
  
"This could be a very long conversation," I quip as I start to clean out the scratch. It's not deep but I don't want it getting infected just the same.  
  
"Helena," she stammers. "I saw Helena. She saved me."  
  
My eyebrow shoots into my hairline. One look after at Reese and I can see that he's just as shocked. And intrigued. This could be the break we were waiting and hoping for. "Really? Where?" I demand.  
  
"Over by the Dark Horse. I chased some guys there...you heard me..."  
  
"You went off comm," I reply, giving her a very pointed look.  
  
She frowns. "No I didn't, I dropped it in the sewer accidentally."  
  
"Uh, okay...how?"  
  
"Saw a penny...tried to pick it up...figured we could use some good luck," she admits sheepishly. "I bent over and I must have snagged the comm on something...it dropped in. I guess it didn't fall into the water."  
  
I think to scold her but decide to let it go. I'll do that later. Her news about Helena is more pressing. Reese apparently concurs because he steps between us. "Helena," he demands.  
  
"Right," she says. She blows out air and then takes a deep breath. "I ended up chasing them into an alley. There were four other guys there. I had them under control you know..."  
  
Again, I consider scolding her. She has to be more careful. She gives me a look that tells me not to bother. She knows she's in trouble. I just wave my hand for her to continue but she's sadly mistaken if she thinks she's just going to get out of this one without at least a few more training sessions.  
  
"Go on," Reese urges.  
  
"Anyways all the sudden Helena comes sweeping in from the roof. She starts kicking on them. Before I know it they're either out cold or running."  
  
"So she looked alright?" I ask, hopeful.  
  
She frowns as she thinks back. Then she shakes her head, the expression deepening and creasing her brow. "No," she says thoughtfully. "Actually she looked terrible."  
  
"What do you mean?" Reese asks, before I can.  
  
Dinah chews her lip. I can tell she's replaying her encounter with Helena in her head. Finally she says, "I don't know, I can't really put a finger on it but something was off; she was off."  
  
"Explain," I say as I finish cleaning the cut on her. I'm satisfied that she doesn't need stitches. That's a relief; she's more of a baby than even Helena and that's saying a lot.  
  
"She was slow. I mean, she was faster than them but that wasn't hard. They just outnumbered me is all." She frowns again and I can see that she's getting more aggravated by the moment. "Barbara, she was really off. Her kicks, she was telegraphing them."  
  
"Did she say anything to you?" I ask, swallowing hard. "Could she just have been drunk?"  
  
It pisses me off to think that she's out there patrolling plastered but it would hardly be the first time and it certainly wouldn't be a shock these days. After all, her current state isn't exactly what I'd call peachy.  
  
"Drunk, no," Dinah says thoughtfully. "She came close enough to me...no, she didn't smell like alcohol but everything was off." She snaps her fingers and looks up at me. "Her eyes....they didn't look right..."  
  
"Drugged?" Reese suggests.  
  
"I don't know," I say. "She tried some stuff in high school but she's never been much for drugs and after what happened with the Topside..."  
  
"Well something was wrong," Dinah announces. "I think I could have taken her and I'm not just saying that."  
  
I rather believe her. Usually Dinah likes to build herself up to be able to go a few rounds with Helena but this doesn't sound like that kind of false bravado. I believe her because she looks worried.  
  
I'm just not sure what it all means.  
  
Behind me I hear Delphi beep at me. I turn and stare at one of my monitors. "Download is finished," I say. I slide over to it and start the video playing.  
  
Reese and Dinah move closer to me, both leaning over my shoulders. It's grainy black and white but it clearly shows four figures enter the store. Three of them are male and one is very clearly female. They are all wearing black masks.  
  
Reese's old girlfriend is behind the counter. She looks up in shock. We see her hand go under the counter. She's reaching for a gun. The man at the front of the pack motions to the girl and she starts forward.  
  
"Oh my God," Reese mutters from behind me. I think for a moment that he's upset because he's watching his friend getting pummeled. Even though it looks like she's giving back as good as she's getting.  
  
Then I realize what he's actually looking at.  
  
"No," I say, shaking my head. "Oh God no."  
  
I click a button on my keyboard and pause the video.  
  
Reese bends forward as if to confirm his suspicion. I already have.  
  
The video shows the female robber on the ground, the back of her shirt up away from her stomach, revealing skin. It plainly shows a tattoo on the small of her back.  
  
A tattoo that belongs to Helena Kyle.  
  
I hit the play button and she stands up. She starts motioning every which way. I look at the torn mask she's wearing and now it seems so clear that it's her. It's so damn obvious. I choke back my concern and anger. None of this makes any sense. Helena wouldn't do this. She's angry and brash but she's not a simple stupid thief. That's not her.  
  
Of course it's Dinah who actually says the word both Reese and I lack the strength to say. "Helena," she whispers. She looks up at us. "Oh God, she was scratched on the face..."  
  
"I don't understand...this isn't her," Reese insists, backing away from us. He stumbles backwards, having forgotten that he still needs his crutches. His hand snags the table and he barely remains standing.  
  
"Reese," I say, a hard knot in my throat. I point at the screen. "Reese, look."  
  
He turns back towards the screen and I see all the color drain from his face as his eyes fall across what I'm pointing at.  
  
Zeus's necklace.  
  
Helena is wearing Zeus necklace.  
  
Oh boy.  
  
What trouble has she gotten herself into now?

* * *

She stepped out of the shower and walked down the hall towards her bedroom. Water dripped down her face and spooled at her shoulders. Her wet hair was messy and uncombed but she didn't really care. Her head was pounding like a steel drum and she felt like she was walking through a snow-storm.  
  
She grinned as she passed the trashcan in the kitchen. She could see one denim leg emerging from the lid. Mick's clothes. She reminded herself to burn them later. She'd worn them too long anyways.  
  
She had meant to return to her apartment right away but had found herself sidetracked by about a thousand old memories. She'd even found herself standing on the ledge outside Reese's apartment. Of course he hadn't been there and considering the fact that she had been wearing another mans' boxers, that was probably a good thing.  
  
She blinked her eyes trying to clear her head. She placed a hand to her forehead and rubbed at her temples. It wasn't so much that she had a headache; it was more like her brain was filled with giant cotton balls.  
  
"You don't look so good," a voice said from the doorway.  
  
She glanced up, angry that yet one more person had broken into her apartment and invaded her privacy. She made a resolution to get a better lock put on her door. "What the..." she started. She stopped when she realized that she was looking at a man she didn't know.  
  
"You're Helena Kyle, right?" he asked, gray eyes intent on her.  
  
"I am," she replied stiffly. "And I don't really care who you are but you have twenty seconds to get out before I toss you through that window."  
  
"I don't think you're going to do that," he said calmly. He stepped towards her and she saw that he was a handsome man of perhaps fifty or so. He was also a very big man, quite imposing. She shook her head, reminding herself that no one intimidated Helena Kyle. No one.  
  
She grinned at him wickedly and then winked. "Pops, you don't know who you're messing with."  
  
He laughed. "I know exactly who you are Miss Kyle." He wrinkled his nose and started to walk towards her. She held her ground, digging her heels into the carpet. She was only wearing a pair of green running shorts and a white tee shirt but she figured that they'd do just fine for kicking grandpa back to his retirement community.  
  
"Oh?" she replied mock sweetly. "You sure? Because I think you're in for a world of trouble."  
  
"I should introduce myself," he said, still quite calmly. "My name is Marco Jameson but you can call me Zeus."  
  
"I think I'll go with asshole," she replied, tensing her body for a fight. It seemed almost unfair but hey, what the hell.  
  
"You're wearing my necklace darling, you should show some respect," he informed her, eyes still locked on her. He did a sweep of her body but unlike most men who looked her over, he seemed unimpressed. More like disgusted which was odd.  
  
Helena glanced down at the necklace and scowled. "This? A cheap token from a stalker." She put a palm around the emblem and made to rip it off but stopped when she heard him speak again.  
  
"That stalker is my son you stupid bitch," Zeus snapped, moving quickly into her personal space. She moved to knock him back but he grabbed her wrist and turned it. She cried out in pain as he twisted it. "And we need to have a little discussion about him."  
  
"I don't talk so well when I'm being hurt," she growled. "And if I were you, I'd really step off before I kick you into a coma. Your punk son should have told you what I'm capable of."  
  
Zeus laughed loudly. "I can see what he likes in you. Fiery. Dangerous." He took his hand off her wrist and then slapped her face. Hard. She felt a stinging heat where he'd hit her. "I however am unimpressed. You're only marginally better than Tara and at least she was controllable."  
  
"Stop," she quipped. "You're making me cry. I hate parental rejection."  
  
She moved to kick him but again he stopped the blow. He seemed to have her timed perfectly. Either that or she was moving too slow.  
  
Then again, it occurred to her, it felt like she'd been moving that way all day long. Certainly in the alley with Dinah. There had been entirely too many close calls there. She felt kind of like she was moving through mud.  
  
He punched her hard across the face and she fell backwards. He followed it with another blow to her chest. She groaned as she felt a bone crack. He was on top of her before she could gather her wits about herself. He slugged her twice more in the face and then once again in the gut. She felt the rib snap under the contact and a flash of red hot heat surged through her body.  
  
Then just like that, he stood up. He walked into her kitchen and retrieved a dishtowel. He wiped his hands clean of the blood and stared down at her. "You worry me Miss Kyle."  
  
"That sucks," she muttered. She wiped blood away from her mouth with the back of her hand. She coughed a few times, feeling her gut burn with pain. She wished that she could find the strength to rise up and take him on but her entire body felt numb and disorientated.  
  
To put it bluntly she felt like she was drugged.  
  
Which wasn't possible but whatever.  
  
Zeus sure didn't seem to care in any case. He'd gotten the drop on her and he seemed more than a little proud of himself.  
  
"You're a smart little girl now aren't you?" he said with a wry smile. Her eyes zeroed in on the massive ring on his hand. This guy was definitely a mob boss.  
  
Great, Mick was the son of the mafia.  
  
Wonderful.  
  
"What can I say?" she mumbled, rolling on her back. She turned her eyes away from him and stared up at the ceiling.  
  
"By smart I don't mean intelligent," Zeus said, reaching out for her. She spun away from but he seemed rather undeterred.  
  
He crossed over to her and bent down next to her. "My son likes you. He may even love you..."  
  
"I don't care," she replied, refusing to look at him.  
  
"I don't really care about what happens between you and Mick. That's just cheap whore sex for all I give a damn. Doesn't involve me. What does is my business. If you fuck up what I'm doing, if you even begin to think you can, I'll make you wish Wolf had killed you. I promise you, you cause me any problems and I will make any nightmare you have right now seem like a fucking daydream."  
  
She opened her mouth to tell him off but was greeted with another punch to the gut. He followed it with a slap across her face. His ring cut into her flesh and left a bloody wake. It reopened one of the cuts from the previous night.  
  
She put her hands over her skin and dropped her head into her palms. She heard him get up and leave the apartment, the door snapping shut behind him.  
  
She looked up then, blood trailing down her cheeks.  
  
She narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Wrong move, pops," she gasped out. "I'm no one's bitch."  
  
        TBC... 


	4. 4

This isn't the first time that I've watched my blood circle the drain in my shower. Hell, I did it just three hours ago after I saved Dinah from those losers in the alley. One of them caught me in the nose and the other one cut my arm. So I washed my blood away.  
  
I'm doing it again now.  
  
I place my palms flat against the wall of my shower and drop my head right beneath the faucet, allowing it to soak me thoroughly. It's not like I need the whole cleaning thing; I took a shower a few hours ago. No, I just want the blood gone.  
  
I feel terrible. My body aches and I just want to crawl into my bed and sleep. For like a year.  
  
No time for that now.  
  
I turn the shower off and stumble out of it, my bare feet sliding against the broken tile in my bathroom. I've been meaning to get that fixed for a while but I guess that will have to wait. More important matters and all of that.  
  
I move in front of the mirror and I laugh. I look like shit. My ribs are covered with black and blue bruises. I touch the swell of one of the marks and almost immediately I flinch away. Hurts like crazy. I've been beat to hell before but the one thing I deal with the very least are broken ribs.  
  
Everything burns when you can barely breathe.  
  
I dress slowly, this time in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. The jeans aren't mine so they're much too big for me but they spell like the man they belong too and that's nice.  
  
Reese.  
  
Moving along.  
  
Let's get back to Mick and his psycho fuck daddy.  
  
You know, I know I'm on one hell of an emotional bender right now. I'm not too far-gone to realize that. Just the same, I'm not about to let some moron who's watched one too many Godfather movies to pummel me into my own carpet.  
  
I don't know who this Zeus guy thinks he is but I'm unimpressed.  
  
And really pissed off.  
  
I slide back into my kitchen and I pull open the freezer. There's a bottle of Vodka in there. I pull it out, groaning as I lift my arm. My middle stretches and then constricts and for a moment the air catches in between. I know I shouldn't be drinking right now but I need something for the pain.  
  
All of it.  
  
And I need to figure this all out.  
  
I know who I am. I know what I am.  
  
I know I'm not a good person and I'm certainly not a hero. I regret walking away from Barbara and Dinah every single day but I still believe I did the right thing. I do. Really, I believe it.  
  
Okay, maybe more than a small part of me really wants to go home. And by home obviously I don't mean the Clocktower. I mean Barbara. Dinah and Reese too but mostly Barbara. She's my everything. Mother, sister, best friend. I miss her like crazy.  
  
Oh enough of this.  
  
I'm not going home; I don't have a place there.  
  
Good guys, bad guys. You know the drill.  
  
And right now I need to focus. I need to figure this all out.  
  
Big daddy Zeus is out of his fucking mind if he thinks I'm just gonna let him beat me up in my own house. Whatever his cracker son has over me doesn't extend to his old man. I meant what I said about not being anyone's bitch.  
  
I take a hefty swig from the bottle, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. It settles in my gut, sending warmth up through me. I stare out the window over my stove. My unused stove mind you. That's a whole other matter. The last time I tried to cook, well, let's just say Alfred paid me to stay out of the kitchen.  
  
I guess I'll have to take some classes or something.  
  
Yeah, screw that, fast food for life.  
  
I really can't cook. I mean, I'm talking burn water can't cook.  
  
I shake my head. Focus, Hel.  
  
What do I know about this Zeus guy? Okay, nothing.  
  
That's not exactly true. I know he's Mick father. He said his name was Marco Jameson. The name means nothing to me but he was swinging it around like it was something big. Shouldn't be too hard to figure it out.  
  
I move over to my kitchen table and turn on the white iBook that's sitting there. Barbara got it for me sometime last year. Something about not wanting to have me downloading certain things on to her systems.  
  
I have to stop going there.  
  
Focus. Just focus.  
  
I take another hit from the bottle and it occurs to me that trying to focus while also trying to get drunk is somewhat antithetical. So I take another swig to make it make more sense.  
  
"Let's just see who you are," I mutter aloud, putting down the bottle. I've never been much of a typist but I can manage to hunt and peck my way around a keyboard. I go to google.com and I type in Gotham, Marco Jameson.  
  
My iBook whirls for a few moments and then finally a page comes up with several hits on the name. The first one is a newspaper article from the Gotham newspaper from a few years back. The writers' name looks familiar but I can't quite place it. Doesn't matter anyways.  
  
It's all about Zeus.  
  
No one bangs on me in my own house.  
  
I feel my jaw drop as I read through the article. Barbara would be impressed what with me actually doing research and all.  
  
I smack my head and tell myself to stop going there.  
  
Just stop.  
  
I lean closer to the screen and shake my head. "Damn Marco baby, you've been a very bad boy."  
  
My eyebrow suddenly leaps up as a thought occurs to me. Dear God, Mick Collins is the son of a mob boss. Go figure, seems like the mob wants me.  
  
Mick.  
  
Reese...  
  
I close my eyes tight, forcing back the thoughts. Almost as if on cue, the aroma of cologne drifts up at me. I'm wearing his jeans and his clothes have always smelled just like him.  
  
Damn.  
  
I take a long swig from the bottle, keeping my eyes closed. I can feel tears prickling against my eyelashes but I'm not giving in on this one.  
  
I'm not giving in.  
  
I put the bottle back down and I glare at the screen.  
  
I'm having an idea.  
  
It's probably not a good one. It probably means I'll be even more damned than I already am.  
  
You know, blackmailed into working with Mick, set up to look like I murdered an innocent girl in the middle of a robbery and selling my soul away one piece at a time damned.  
  
Guess what? I don't care.  
  
Yeah, that's right. That's Goddamn right.  
  
I'm about to walk right into the belly of the beast.  
  
I'll bring Zeus down myself. Even if it means me. I'm already lost. The lights are already off.  
  
Might as well kick a few tires first. Balls to the wall and all of that.  
  
I'm sorry Barbara.  
  
One of these days you'll forgive me. You always do.  
  
That's all I've got left.

* * *

"Where did Reese go?" Dinah asked as she descended the stairs. She rubbed at her eyes, exhaustion clearly trying to claim her. It was almost three in the morning but she wasn't quite ready to head to bed just yet.  
  
"He needed air," Barbara mumbled, her eyes still on the screen in front of her. Her fingers were flying across the keyboard and the display was flickering in response. Windows upon windows piled up and somehow or another, Barbara Gordon was managing to take it all in.  
  
"Is he okay?"  
  
"I doubt it," Barbara said, finally turning to face her blonde ward. She took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Right now it looks like his current girlfriend just murdered his former girlfriend."  
  
"Ouch," Dinah grimaced. Then she shook her head. "But we know that's not true. I mean, something else is going on."  
  
Barbara sighed. "I know." She frowned, the frustration clearly showing itself in her tired emerald eyes. "I just don't know what's going on with her."  
  
"Maybe Zeus somehow forced her..."  
  
"With what?" Barbara asked, shaking her head. "I'm missing something." She ran her fingers through her hair, moving several red strands away from her eyes. "Helena doesn't rob convenience stores. She doesn't need to for one and it's just not her style for two."  
  
"So she's been forced then," Dinah repeated. "That seems clear, right?"  
  
"I think so," Barbara replied softly.  
  
Dinah jerked her head up, blue eyes staring straight at her mentor. "You sound like you doubt her."  
  
Barbara squeezed the arms of her chair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "No, that's not exactly true."  
  
The small blonde took a step towards the computers. She moved a mug of coffee out of the way. "I don't believe this. You always believe in her." She stopped, searching for eye contact. One she got it she continued. "We know Helena."  
  
"Sometimes," Barbara replied. "I also know what she's capable of when she's not thinking. Right now...I don't know what...something is going on with her. She's in way over her head."  
  
"Then we have to get her out of it," Dinah offered.  
  
"I haven't done such a great job of that so far," Barbara muttered. She looked away from Dinah. She picked up the moved mug of coffee and stared down into the black liquid, noticing how very dark and emotionless it was.  
  
Dinah stepped towards Barbara and kneeled before her. She reached out for Barbara's hands, encasing them within her own. "You're not to blame for this. Unless I am as well. We both failed to stop her. We both failed her."  
  
"Dinah..."  
  
"Doesn't work both ways Barbara," Dinah shot back. "Either we're both responsible or neither of us are."  
  
"Dinah..."  
  
The blonde held up her hand to silence the redhead. "Maybe we could have done more..."  
  
"Dinah, this is my fault. I let this get out of control." She shook her head. "Five weeks ago I let her goad me into a fight. If I had..."  
  
"She was spoiling for a fight and she got it. You're still human Barbara and you got pissed. It was her choice to go after Mick. What happened after that was his fault alone."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow, momentarily amused. "Okay, you're still sixteen right?"  
  
"Almost seventeen," Dinah reminded her.  
  
"So where is all this wisdom coming from?"  
  
Dinah shrugged. "Would you believe me if I said Helena?"  
  
Barbara snorted. "I'd believe you if you said anyone but Helena."  
  
Dinah laughed. "Okay then, Springer."  
  
"So Helena then," Barbara teased. She shook her head. "Tell me you didn't get addicted to that God awful show too."  
  
Dinah made a face that looked oddly like she was trying to be embarrassed but couldn't quite manage it. "Sorry."  
  
"I bet. You start drinking vodka and you're grounded until you're thirty."  
  
"Not really my drink of choice," Dinah replied thoughtfully. When she looked up to see Barbara glaring at her she quickly stammered at, "Not that I have one. Pepsi and all, you know me."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"So then, now that those doubts are over, what are we going to do to help Helena?"  
  
The computer bleeped behind them interrupting whatever response Barbara might have had. She spun back to the monitor and frowned. "Crime scene photos."  
  
"Anything interesting?" Dinah asked, glancing over her shoulder.  
  
"Yes," Barbara muttered. "As well as this." She indicated towards an expedited autopsy report in another window.  
  
"Great. That's great. This is the part where you explain it to me."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. "Sorry. I was just..."  
  
"Conversing with yourself?"  
  
Barbara rolled her eyes. "Okay, you're grounded now."  
  
"You wish," Dinah snorted. She squinted as she looked at the screen. "So, do that explaining thing."  
  
"This isn't right..."  
  
"Barbara," Dinah teased. "I'm still in the room. I know it's just you and..."  
  
Barbara turned, holding up hand. "You finish that statement and you're grounded until you're fifty."  
  
"Promises promises," Dinah grinned. Then she put her head down and coughed. "Delphi."  
  
"Dinah," Barbara admonished. She shook her head. "Don't think there won't be payback."  
  
"I'm shaking."  
  
Barbara smiled then and it actually touched her eyes. "We will get her through this," she said softly. "I believe that."  
  
"Good," Dinah grinned. "Now the reports? What's so interesting about them?"  
  
"The person who killed Jenny Thompson was male. It wasn't Helena. She was set up."  
  
"Really?"  
  
Barbara nodded and pointed at the screen. "The indentations are too large. It couldn't have been a woman. Also, the man who killed her was wearing a large ring. The size of it is such that a woman like Helena couldn't have been wearing it."  
  
"So did Helena hurt her?"  
  
"Broke her jaw," Barbara noted. "But after re-watching the video and examining this report, Helena didn't beat her and certainly wasn't responsible for her dying."  
  
"Then I really don't get it," Dinah said, dropping into a chair. "She's working with this Zeus guy and he's setting her up? Am I missing something?"  
  
"We both are," Barbara admitted. She sighed. "It's just about time to go directly to the source."  
  
"You're going to actually go see her?"  
  
"Yes," Barbara replied. "Though not quite yet. I want to get all of my ducks in a row." She frowned. "So to speak anyways."  
  
Dinah chuckled. "I didn't really think we had ducks, don't worry."  
  
"Why is she working for him and what's wrong with her," Barbara mumbled to herself, now back to her own thoughts. She looked up at Dinah. "You said she seemed out of it, like she was drugged?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense," Barbara sighed. She turned to Dinah and offered her a small smile. "I need you to do me a favor."  
  
"Eww," Dinah said, wrinkling her nose.  
  
"What? I haven't even told you what I need yet."  
  
"No, but I know you..."  
  
"How droll," Barbara noted. Then she smiled again. "I need you to go by the morgue."  
  
"Oh gross, why?"  
  
"I need blood."  
  
"Blood?"  
  
"Yeah. Jenny cut Helena's face so she had to have some of her blood under her fingernails."  
  
"Don't you think the forensics people would have already checked for that?"  
  
"Oh I'm sure they did. They probably even ran the blood through the system but her type and DNA aren't there. They didn't post the findings in any case. I want them." She paused. "I need them. We have to know what's in Helena."  
  
Dinah sighed. "I'm on it."  
  
"Be careful and keep your comm on," Barbara instructed.  
  
Dinah lifted her hand up in the air as if to indicate that she had heard. She slipped into the elevator and turned back to Barbara. Then quite out of nowhere, she grinned. Like a damn fool.  
  
The doors closed in front of her leaving Barbara staring ahead with a look of shock on her face.  
  
Then she laughed.

* * *

"Would you like another cup of coffee Detective?" she asks from above me. I glance up at her and nod. She tosses me this smile that's more seductive than friendly. I've been coming to this café for almost three years and she's been trying to get a date for about as long. I used to flirt with her a little bit but these days I come back her so infrequently that it seems almost forced now.  
  
"Please," I say, quickly averting my eyes. I'm not much in the mood for flirting. Even if technically speaking, I am a single and available man.  
  
She never exactly said the words but through her actions, Helena made it very clear that she was breaking up with me and moving right the hell on.  
  
That's not fair and I know it. She's going through something way weirder than I quite get. I don't know exactly what's going on in her head but I know it's ugly. After almost a year of being in her life in some of the most intimate ways humanly possible, I think I kind of know what some of her demons are.  
  
I think I kind of understand how much she hates herself.  
  
I just don't get it.  
  
She's a beautiful woman with a very large heart. She seems to think that her anger makes her ugly but I think it makes her complete. We all need a force kicking us in the ass and hers is her anger. Which isn't to say that sometimes I don't get annoyed when she loses control but it doesn't make me think less of her.  
  
Even after the whole mess with Mick.  
  
He did something to her but it was more than just the drugs and the killing. He opened up something inside of her that has scared the living hell out of her and I don't know what it is.  
  
I want to help her; I want to go to her and sweep her into my arms and hold her until she's not afraid anymore. I know better. I know she won't let me.  
  
She has to come to us. We all want to go to her and to yank on her but we won't. Not for now anyways. She'll just shove back and it will only make thing all that much worse.  
  
"Jesse," Jules says from above me. She touches my shoulder gently, giving it a soft squeeze. She's throwing the biggest eyes that you can imagine at me. I take the cup of coffee from her and sip it. "You look like you're having girl problems," she starts. "I didn't know you had one." That's a speculative question; she's fishing for information.  
  
"I do," I say softly. "We're just...she's having issues."  
  
"Want to talk about it?"  
  
Uh oh, I know this drill. Women who are interested in you don't talk out of the kindness of their heart. Nuh uh, they do it to further your doubts and to come off as the good friend. It's not a bad tactic but nor is it one I'm interested in.  
  
"Thanks, no," I reply.  
  
Her eyes slide down my body and she takes note of my injured leg. Her eyebrow lifts. "What happened there?"  
  
"Job injury," I answer. It's only half of a lie. I can get away with that today.  
  
"Hey," she says, leaning towards me. "You hear about that shooting at the gas station last night?"  
  
I sigh. I rub my temples. I heard about it all right. In fact, thanks for asking, but my girlfriend is somewhat involved.  
  
Yeah, I still haven't quite wrapped my mind around that. I don't believe that Helena herself is capable of cold-blooded murder no matter what she thinks. Beyond that however, I don't buy that she'd ever work for a controlling prick like Zeus.  
  
The guy is a misogynistic jackoff with no respect for women. I just don't see it.  
  
I don't even want to start thinking about the fact that the victim was my high school sweetheart. By the time she and I broke up, there was nothing left of us but still, it hurts.  
  
And I need to know what Helena's involvement in it all is.  
  
"Jesse?"  
  
"Yeah, I heard about it," I finally answer. "I'm off-duty right now so I don't know much."  
  
She shrugs. "You look lonely."  
  
"I'm okay. Miles to go and all of that."  
  
She seems to understand what I'm saying. She pats my arm and then slides away. I finish the cup of coffee and I move upwards, clutching at my crutches. I want these things gone but that ain't gonna happen anytime soon.  
  
I drop a ten-dollar bill on the table and move out towards the street. The cold hits me but it actually feels good. I see my breath in a cloud in front of me.  
  
I should probably head back to the Clocktower to help out but I doubt that there is much that I could do. And I'm certainly not up for getting glared at by Oracle because I'm underfoot. And around her, everyone is a nuisance.  
  
I guess it's home then. It's a place that has become awful cold and empty. A year ago it was my sanctuary. It was my place where I felt secure and at ease. Then she started staying there every now and again. We were miles from moved in together but Helena Kyle is a messy person and she tends to leave pieces of herself where she goes. That includes clothes and a certain ugly as hell blue and white blanket that she won't give up or throw away no matter how ratty it is.  
  
And she started making some of my clothes disappear. Flannels, sweatshirts and a pair of my jeans. I know she has them even if she'll never admit it. And of course, obviously, I'm all about her having my stuff.  
  
The thing is, now my place still smells like her. She hasn't been here in weeks but I swear I can still feel the path of the tornado. And her blanket is still on my bed. It crosses my mind to use it as a lame excuse to go see her but I'm not there yet.  
  
I'm afraid if I do and I can't get through to her, I want have any other excuses.  
  
One of these days I'm going to figure out how to make her look at herself in a mirror and not see a monster.  
  
One of these days. Very soon.  
  
Until then, I just need to know how much trouble she's in.  
  
Because guess what, I guarantee that she is in way over her head.  
  
And for Helena Kyle, it only goes down hill from there.

* * *

She slipped into the room, trying to walk as quietly as she could manage. She moved over to the bed and climbed on to it, hearing it creak under the slight added weight.  
  
He sat up and blinked. "Kyle?" He squinted as he took in the sleek sexual form of the woman he couldn't seem to stop thinking about. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black sweater and damn did it just all make everything look more beautiful.  
  
"Mmm," she moaned, leaning forward to kiss him. He jerked his head in immediate reaction and then realized what was happening and loosened up. He felt her teeth nibble at his lip and he opened his mouth to accept the oral embrace.  
  
"What's up with you?" he asked. "A little bit drunk?"  
  
She laughed. "Just a little."  
  
She stood up and crossed over to the bar. She pulled open the refrigerator and began to look through the contents. She reached for a bottle of beer but he caught her hand. "Uh uh, I think you've had enough."  
  
She blinked, incredulous. "You're cutting me off?"  
  
He reached in and pulled out the bottle of orange juice. "Have some juice okay?" He touched her face and then leaned forward to kiss her. She forced herself to be receptive. "God I like you like this, when you're not fighting me."  
  
'Uh huh," she snorted, breaking away. She quickly grabbed at the offered glass of juice, thankful for anything that might divert his attention. She had known what she was getting herself into by deciding to play the game with him but had forgotten just how much she detested him. She quickly drained the glass. "Better?"  
  
"Much," he replied, taking her hand. There was a strange look on his face, one she couldn't quite put a finger on. She knew she didn't like it but she didn't have time to think about it.  
  
The plan was all that mattered.  
  
Zeus.  
  
He yanked her on to the bed and slid her fingers beneath her sweater. He pressed his mouth to her neck and started to nibble at the skin. He stopped when he felt tape. "What happened to you?"  
  
She smiled at him. "Nothing that I won't be dealing with."  
  
He shrugged and went back to kissing her neck. She let him, staring straight ahead at the wall. She scooped up a handful of sheets and held it tightly between her fingers, digging her nails into the fabric. She felt him slide the sweater upwards. "Lift your arms."  
  
She did as he asked, allowing him to slide the black sweater up and over her head. He frowned at the white tape that was wrapped around her broken ribs. Then he sighed, apparently deciding that it wasn't that big of a deal. He bent his head and continued to press kisses against her skin. She felt his fingers slide over her bra, fumbling at the latch. Nuh uh, time to stop the fun. So to speak anyways.  
  
She spun around and toppled him backwards on the bed, effectively stopping him from further undressing her. "Relax," she purred, swallowing back the bile in her throat. She kissed him hard on the mouth and ripped at his shirt, tearing it away from his chest in one swoop. "Pants," she ordered him. "Take them off."  
  
He didn't hesitate. He reached down and stripped away his flannel pants, leaving him completely naked in front of her. She pushed him back down and kissed him again. She wove her fingers into his and pulled their mingled hands above their heads. She grunted and pushed into him, forcing them closer to the headboard, all the while still kissing him.  
  
She released one of his hands and reached behind her. She pulled a pair of cuffs out from the back of her pants. She broke away to get air and then went back in for another kiss. She took his hands in hers again, squeezing them tighter when he recoiled from the cold metal of the shackles. Pushing him hard against the headboard, she snapped the handcuffs around his left wrist and the knob at the top of the board.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing?" he growled.  
  
She broke the kiss. "Playing," she replied. "Don't you like adventure? Don't you like games where people can't fight back?" She pulled back and punched him across the face, splitting his lip. A drop of blood splattered against her knuckle.  
  
"This is stupid," he growled at her. "You don't want to do this."  
  
"Probably is stupid but yeah I really do want to do this," she replied. She stood up and crossed over to his dresser. She yanked it open and pulled out another set of cuffs that was hidden under his boxers. She returned to him and slapped the restrains around his right hand, tightening his connection to the bed.  
  
"Let me the fuck go now," he hissed, squirming against the chains.  
  
"No," she replied. She reached down for her sweater, inhaling sharply as she bent over. The small amount of grinding against Mick had aggravated her entire chest and her broken rib was screaming bloody murder at her. She pulled the sweater on. "Let's just say we're done here."  
  
"We're far from done," Mick snapped back. "You will regret this."  
  
"One more of those isn't going to break my back," she replied, walking over to his desk. She picked up the Dell laptop and turned it over in her hands. "My photos on here?"  
  
"I have backups," he said, trying to calm himself.  
  
She nodded slowly. "I know you do."  
  
Then she dropped the laptop. It hit the ground with a crack but stayed in one piece. She gave it a hard kick and then one more. The latch snapped and the lid popped. She pressed her foot against the LCD until it finally gave and sunk inwards.  
  
"Baby you will regret this," he promised her.  
  
She cocked her head. "I'm not your baby and you already said that you stupid jackass. And guess what, I'm done with regrets." She held out her arms. "This is me; killer and all."  
  
She punched him once more, feeling an absurd amount of power surge through her. She had the sense to be scared about it for a few moments but then knocked it back down. It was all or nothing.  
  
She bent over and picked up his discarded flannel pants. She ripped one leg free of the fabric and crossed back over to him. Leaning over him she tied the rag over his mouth, cutting off a stream of vulgarity.  
  
"I'll be back soon and we'll talk about those pictures," she assured him. She blew a kiss at him and slipped out the door.  
  
Once she was back in the hallway, she sagged against the wall. The whole point of tying him up had been to make sure she couldn't interfere with what she wanted to do to Zeus. How she wanted to stop him. The thrill she'd gotten from standing over Mick had terrified her. It really did mean that at her root she was already damaged goods.  
  
Damned and all.  
  
She placed a hand over her bruised ribs and started down the hallway. She knew just from overhearing Mick talk to some of his boys that just about every detail of every transaction they made was kept in Jameson's office.  
  
"Which is right here," she mumbled to herself as she pushed a door open. She questioned the wisdom of entering a room blind but sighed in relief when she saw that it was empty. "So far so good."  
  
She walked over to the large wood desk and used her strength to rip open the top drawer. She cocked her head to the side as she glanced at the papers there. They didn't say much. Or maybe just not anything that she could quite understand.  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," she muttered, picking up one of the sheets. It looked like an invoice for parts. Transistors or something like that. "Why am I not buying?"  
  
She turned the paper over in her hands and then laughed. "Tonight then." She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was just before four in the morning. The delivery was due into the New Gotham Harbor at about fifteen minutes until five.  
  
She rubbed her hands together, a glint overtaking her eyes. In the back of her mind a voice began to scream at her, begging her to stop and think.  
  
That time had passed.  
  
She touched her ribs gently, feeling the pain sear up through her.  
  
He'd made a big mistake.  
  
A very big mistake.  
  
And the line between good and evil no longer existed in her mind.  
  
Showtime.  
  
         TBC... 


	5. 5

I don't like the dead. I know that's a strange statement but it's true. I mean no one really likes being around the not living except for the weird people who do it for a paycheck, like the guys who do makeup for corpses.  
  
Me, I'll stick with being around the living if it's all the same to you. Makes life easier and a hell of a lot less scary.  
  
Yeah, I'm a wimp.  
  
Just the same, here I am, walking down a very cold hallway towards the morgue. My hands are in my pockets and I'm playing with a lighter that's nuzzled into the corner of the fabric. No it's not for smoking. I took it out of Helena's room. It's a silver electric Zippo with a blue flame across it. Dunno where she got it from or why she even has it but somehow or another I ended up with it.  
  
This place is empty at almost four in the morning so I move unimpeded. I enter a dark room. I think Barbara calls it the Vault. It's where all the bodies are kept pre and post autopsy. The room smells incredibly clean, in fact creepily so. The bleach odor rises up from the ground and assaults my nostrils.  
  
I cross over to the wall and take a clipboard off of a nail. The board has all the names of everyone who has been brought in and is still checked in. I run my hand down the list until I get to the one I'm looking for: Jennifer Candace Thompson. The number next to her name tells me that she's in B-7.  
  
I put the clipboard back and the wall and cross over to the metal doors on the opposite wall. I really don't want to be doing this but with Helena going through whatever the hell it is that she's going through, I end up getting to do the icky grunt work.  
  
I find B-7 and I yank open the door. It creaks loudly in the big silent room. I pull the slab out and look down at the body. She's naked and blue, her body still covered in bruises. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. I order myself to be strong. I can do this.  
  
I can do all of this.  
  
It's been hell lately and sometimes I don't know if I'm doing so well. But I have to. I have to hold on. Barbara and I are waiting for her to come home. She needs our help. We know it and I have to believe she does to; she just needs to lose the pride and let us in.  
  
I swallow and gaze down at the body. I move a shaking hand towards the corpse, not quite believing that I'm about to go digging for blood.  
  
"Dinah?"  
  
I startle, jumping a bit. I let out a long slow breath and place a hand over my quaking heart. I laugh a bit nervously. "I'm here, Oracle," I reply.  
  
She chuckles a bit, which tells me she sees right through my bravado. She knows she scared the shit out of me and frankly I think it amuses her. That's Barbara for you, delighting in the sicker sides of being a voice in your ear. "How you holding up?" she asks.  
  
"Fine," I say. "Just fine. Uh, just scrape under the nail?"  
  
"Right. Hopefully there's still a sample available. If the body hasn't been cleaned for burial yet we should still be in luck. She got Helena good." And that's certainly true. We saw the tape. We saw the proof. She nailed Helena.  
  
"Okay," I mutter, eyes still downward. I'm not sure I can do this. I reach down and pick up her left hand. I think for a moment that she's shaking her fist at me but then I realize that I'm the one trembling. "I can do this," I say to myself in a very low voice.  
  
A voice Barbara wasn't meant to hear but does anyway. "You can do it," she assures me. "Just scrape under the nails and put the sample in the evidence bag and get back here."  
  
"In and out," I reply as I slide one of Barbara's weird looking tools under Jenny's nails. I can see bits of debris on the end but I can't tell if it's blood. Just the same, I finish my job, scraping each of her nails. Then I put the tool in a plastic bag and drop it back into my pocket. "I'm done here," I say quickly, nearly tripping over my words.  
  
"Good. Get out of there. The morning shift gets there in about ten minutes and unless you've developed a new power I'm unaware of, you're probably not as adept at quick exits."  
  
I laugh loudly. "Hey, I have lots of new powers."  
  
There's a long silence and I find myself unnerved by it. What she says next really gets me. "I know. Once all of this settles down, we really need to talk about that."  
  
My eyebrow flashes upwards. "Talk about it? Did I do something wrong?"  
  
She's quick to reply. "No, no. Of course not. I'm just..." I can tell that she's measuring out her words, looking for the best way to not upset me. The mere thought that she's doing that concerns me enough. "Worried," she finishes.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Dinah, you were able to actually go into Helena's mind and for lack of a better way of putting it, you short-circuited her brain. That's kind of...extreme."  
  
I chew my lip thoughtfully. I've kind of kept to myself how much my powers have been growing over the last several months. It feels like every time I use them they're a little bit stronger. It's exhilarating. And terrifying. "Okay," I finally say. "When this is over."  
  
She seems to get that I don't want to talk about it and decides to let it pass. I'm not stupid enough to think that she'll let it go for good. For now works for me however. "Okay then, get back here."  
  
I nod, obviously to myself. I start towards the door and yank it open, insanely glad to be out of the morgue.  
  
I hate dead people.  
  
Especially since my biggest fear these days is that the next time I see Helena, she'll be on a metal slab herself.  
  
And then God help us all.

* * *

She slipped on to the massive yacht at just before five in the morning. The sky was already beginning to take on a hazy gray hue. Hugging close to the wall, she continued to creep towards the front of the boat. Her eyes locked on several large men wearing dark clothes and ski masks that weren't yet pulled down. They were actually probably there to keep the men's' ears warm.  
  
She recognized the guy at the front as being one of the thugs that she had robbed the convenience store with. Adam was his name. He was quite a bit larger than the other men, stacked and racked with muscle.  
  
She clenched her fists in breathless anticipation but managed to keep her wits about her. Her head was whirling in circles and her body seemed heavy but other than that she felt okay. Good to go and all of that nonsense.  
  
"Adam," a voice said from the left. Helena glanced up and smiled wickedly as she saw the man who called himself Zeus step out onto the deck. He was dressed in dark warm clothes but he still looked powerfully intimidating.  
  
She was done being intimidated.  
  
He had come into her apartment earlier that night and beaten her to the ground. He had spilled her blood in her own house.  
  
Payback was definitely due.  
  
And hey, if she could screw up whatever the hell business transaction he was up to, well that was just dandy.  
  
She slid a hand down to her side and grazed her fingers over her ribs. It occurred to her that most of the intense throbbing had ceased. That was curious but she decided not to dwell too long on it. Less pain was always a good thing and definitely not something to bitch about.  
  
Helena bent across the wall so as to be able to hear what was going on between the assembled thugs on the yacht. She noticed several large metal suitcases on the ground. Man, maybe they really did do things the old mob way she mused to herself.  
  
Adam turned towards his boss and nodded. "Sir," he said, a thick Brooklyn accent rolling from his words. "We're just about ready to go. Cabe should be here soon."  
  
"You paid off the Port Authority fellow?" Zeus asked as he picked up one of the suitcases. He opened it and up Helena saw flashes of green. Obviously cash.  
  
"Of course," Adam replied. He glanced down at his watch. "Mick's still not here."  
  
Zeus scowled, his face creasing. "He'll be here." He glanced over at Adam. "What do you know about this girl he's brought in?"  
  
Adam lifted an eyebrow. "Kyle?"  
  
Helena smiled and crept closer. She knew that she should keep her distance but she couldn't quite resist trying to hear what they had to say about her. As she moved she glanced around, looking for anything that she could utilize as a weapon if need be. Her eyes lit on a thin metal pole leaning against several boxes maybe five feet from her. That would work just fine.  
  
"Yes," Zeus replied gruffly, his eyes already back on the water. He looked impatient but not exactly nervous. This was all old-hat to him. He'd probably done a hundred of these cash for drugs transactions.  
  
"Hot bitch," Adam drawled. "Got some attitude."  
  
Zeus nodded. He placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. "And what do you think of her?"  
  
Helena frowned. Now this was curious. Mick was the big guy's son but there seemed to be some affection between the boss and Adam. She wondered if it was some kind of weird surrogate parent thing.  
  
Adam shrugged. "Bet she's hell on wheels in the sack but she makes him stupid. She's trouble and he doesn't see it. He thinks he's got her under control."  
  
Helena chuckled to herself, her mind slipping back to the man that she had left tied naked to his own bed. Yeah, that was control.  
  
She was about to move a little closer when a wave of dizziness hit her like a ton of bricks. She staggered backwards, her fingers biting hard into the wall. She felt the stucco scrape her fingertips but the sudden need to vomit kept her from caring.  
  
The nausea passed within a few moments but her legs still felt wobbly so she settled herself against the wall of the cabin, her back flat against it as she struggled for control. Her head was pounding and things were starting to spin again.  
  
Like they had in earlier in the alley with Dinah.  
  
When she'd just barely been able to fight.  
  
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. The second wave of dizziness passed and she was able to regain her balance. She wondered how much of the conversation she had missed between Adam and Zeus. Looking up she noticed that they were standing several feet from each other, both looking out over the water.  
  
"Sir," Adam said, his eyes still straight ahead. "Cabe is here." He was touching an earpiece connected to his left ear. Helena could see a long black cord winding around his neck, not unlike that which cops wore out on patrol. She absently touched her earring. She actually missed the obnoxious voice in her ear.  
  
Missed it like crazy.  
  
No time. No time.  
  
Focus. Focus.  
  
Zeus turned around, a strange smile on his face. "Bring him up."  
  
Adam spoke into a microphone that Helena couldn't quite locate. "We're ready up here."  
  
Helena slipped back around behind several large boxes and slid behind one. Her view of Adam and Zeus was slightly obstructed but that was probably just as well; it meant theirs of hers would be equally so.  
  
Almost five minutes passed before she heard footsteps to her left. Three very large men holding semiautomatics walked up the boat ramp, escorting a skinny man who was carrying a metal suitcase. Another man in all red walked a step or two behind him.  
  
"Daniel," Zeus greeted, his tone anything but warm. It wasn't threatening either but the big guy was definitely telling the little one who was boss.  
  
Daniel Cabe stepped forward, holding his hand out. Zeus took it, quickly pumping his palm. "You must be doing really good business these days," he noted, trying to sound casual.  
  
"We're doing business," Zeus confirmed. He watched the little man with a look of annoyance. The pleasantries were over and the mobster wanted to get the transaction closed out.  
  
"Open the box," Adam said, stepping behind Cabe. The big guy in red moved to intercept him but Adam shoved him roughly out of the way. He pointed a small pistol at Cabe. "Now." It was quite clear that Adam was the number two around these parts, which made his deference to Mick the night of the robbery rather curious.  
  
"Your boy is a bit itchy," Cabe noted, casually bending over to put the box down on a table. Helena blinked; she hadn't noticed the card table previously. That was weird. She ran a hand over her head and noticed that she had begun to sweat. She wondered if she was coming down with something.  
  
"He has his reasons," Zeus mused. "Let's see the product."  
  
Cabe shrugged. He placed his thumbs under the latches of the case and snapped them. There was a soft buzzing and then the top slid upwards and out, showing off a black velvet cape with tubes in it. All filled to the top with some gummy clear liquid.  
  
Probably Topside. She'd never seen it in its base form but she couldn't imagine what else Zeus would be importing.  
  
Cabe reached into the case and took one of the vials from the far left. He unscrewed the cap and offered it to Adam. The Brooklyn boy sniffed it and then offered it to Zeus. "Sir?"  
  
"Go ahead," he said to Adam. "Test it."  
  
Adam nodded. He bent over the table and took out a small silver disk. The top of the disk had a strange red glint to it and looked rather wet. There was some kind of gel on it. He poured the liquid from the vial on to it. After a few seconds the disk turned from silver to a bright green. Adam lifted an eyebrow. "You weren't lying when you said potent." He looked at Zeus. "Point seven."  
  
Zeus nodded his approval. "You weren't lying," he repeated to Cabe.  
  
"I wasn't," Cabe admitted. He was smiling smugly. "So being that I gave you a better product than requested, I was thinking we should renegotiate rates."  
  
"Rates," Zeus said nodding as if he understood what Cable was saying and was amenable about it. "No, I don't think so."  
  
Helena slid up against the back of the box and bent over it. This was starting to look like there could be imminent violence. That was either a very good thing or a very bad one depending on how you wanted to look at it.  
  
On one hand violence between bad guys tended to kill of a few of them. On the other, she wasn't much for bullets flying every which way. And she wanted Zeus for herself.  
  
Cabe blinked, clearly stunned. That seemed weird too. Did he really think that he'd just walk up to a mob boss and demand higher pay? "But I...I...figured...."  
  
"Stop whimpering Daniel, it's pathetic," Zeus noted. He waved to Adam who stepped back to allow the big guy through. "You'll get your fair rate."  
  
The kid nodded but the color in his face was starting to drain away. He was definitely beginning to rethink his decision to confront Zeus. He glanced over the red-suited bodyguard that he had brought with him. The one that Adam had dismissed with little effort. "We should uh, start the transfer."  
  
"I like that," Zeus grinned. He touched Daniels' shoulder and crushed his hand down into the bone, shaving Cabe to the ground. The man screamed out, his eyes bulging. "All business."  
  
Helena flinched, well aware of the pain that Zeus could inflict upon a person. She touched her broken ribs and hissed a bit. It wasn't that the pain was unbearable, in fact it barely seemed noticeable at all but just the same, the guy was a serious brute.  
  
"Start the transfer, start the transfer," Cabe screamed at his bodyguard. The man in red nodded. He motioned to Adam to follow him.  
  
As soon as Adam and Red Boy had disappeared down the ramp Zeus let Cabe stand up. "That wasn't very smart now was it?"  
  
Cabe shook his head. "Hard to get as much as you always want Mr. Jameson," he babbled. "I just thought..."  
  
"You were thinking for yourself," Zeus mused. "That's okay. I admire that." He grabbed Cabe by the collar and yanked him forward. "Don't fucking do it on my watch or I will turn you into hamburger meat and sell you for a buck a pound you little piss ant, do you understand?"  
  
Helena actually thought she saw tears slip from Cabe's eyes. The man nodded as quickly as he could. Helena wondered how the hell the little guy had managed to get himself roped into being the delivery boy for the drugs; he definitely lacked the constitution to stand up to anyone.  
  
"Enjoying the show are ya?"  
  
Helena froze, the voice behind her sending shivers up her spine. She only vaguely recognized it but it wasn't the person who had her body tense, it was the gun he was pressing against her back.  
  
"Damn," she muttered to herself, pissed that she had allowed someone to sneak up on her. Something was wrong, something was off. All of her senses seemed so sluggish.  
  
"Around," the voice ordered. "Slowly. You try to hit me and I will bury a bullet in your face."  
  
She held up her hands and began to turn slowly towards the voice. "Rat Boy," she muttered when her eyes lit on the tall boy holding a glock on her. He grinned at her.  
  
"Kyle," he mused. "Heard whispers that you'd been brought in. Guess it's true and Mick really is alive. He's the only moron who'd want you."  
  
"Yep, that's me," she said weakly. "Just running security for the boss."  
  
He reached out and yanked her arm, pulling her to her feet. He jammed the gun into her ribs, eliciting a hiss of pain from her. "You know what bitch, I'm not buying." He touched his earpiece. "Boss, I got something over here you should see."  
  
Helena clenched her jaw hard. She wanted to hit him but the gun pressing into her side made her think better of it. She glanced around, looking for an escape route.  
  
"Helena Kyle," Zeus said as he turned towards her. His tone was mildly amused which pissed her off to no end. He glanced at Rat Boy. "Good job. You can go."  
  
Rat Boy opened his mouth to protest but quickly decided that Zeus didn't look like he was in the mood for discussion. "All yours," he replied. He pushed the gun once more into Helena's side, making her topple. Then he grinned and walked away.  
  
"You want to kill him don't you," Zeus asked, kneeling down next to her.  
  
"I want to kill you," she growled, eyes flashing.  
  
He laughed. "You know what, I could come to like you. You're spunky. And anyone who would come over to me after getting the shit beat out of them well....I don't quite know what to say. You're either incredibly brave or insanely stupid." He shrugged. "Then again, I don't much care."  
  
He kicked out with his foot right into the middle of her stomach. She grunted and toppled. She glared up at him. Drawing all of her strength together she pushed herself to her feet and lashed out with a vicious kick right to his face. He fell back, his hand moving to his nose. He drew his fingers away and gazed at the blood there.  
  
"Let's go pops," Helena said, taking up a combative posture. She knew that she should probably try to get the hell away but she had come for a confrontation.  
  
She had come looking for a fight.  
  
And she was damn well going to get it.

* * *

Jenny Thompson wasn't the only mob child murdered tonight.  
  
I'm staring straight ahead at my LCD, my eyes tired and red. The words are starting to blur together so I remove my glasses and rub at my eyes with my balled fists.  
  
"You know ever since I met you ladies, I don't sleep more than three hours at a time," Reese calls out to me as he hobbles in. He drops down into a chair next to me and lets his crutches fall. I think he's going to use them as firewood once he's off them.  
  
"Sorry," I toss back at him. I put my glasses back on and point at the screen. "Do you know him?" I'm showing him a black and white crime scene photo of a young man with a bullet in his head. I don't know if the lack of color makes it easier to handle or more dramatic.  
  
Reese leans over me and I catch the smell of cologne. I woke him up and didn't give him time to shower so I think he probably feels a little self- conscious. Which is not to say that he smells bad because he doesn't.  
  
"I know him," Reese says softly. "Or I did. His name is Cory Hayward. He's Bulldog's oldest."  
  
"Well I guess that confirms it then," I say, more to myself than Reese. "Zeus is definitely trying to get rid of his competition."  
  
"His imagined competition," Reese corrects. "Cory was like Jenny. Like me. We all got out. None of us are a threat to him if his thing is taking power."  
  
He sounds really upset and I can't say I blame him. If he's right and for some inexplicable reason Zeus is trying to get rid of the children who have walked away, well then Jesse Reese is next on the list.  
  
Or at least on the list.  
  
"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing that it's a stupid question.  
  
He shakes his head. "This has been a hell of a week," he mutters. "My girlfriend...neh, my ex girlfriend is turning into a lush and now she's working with a man who probably wants to kill me. Oh and every childhood friend I've ever had is on Zeus's hit list."  
  
"Helena's always been a lush," I reply with a grin. He looks at me for a moment and then does exactly what I wanted him to do; he laughs.  
  
"True enough," he replies. He shakes his head. "I honestly don't get it though. There are a lot of the kids who are still in the family business."  
  
"Like your old friend Castle?"  
  
Reese literally blanches forward. He's taken aback. "Castle?" he stammers. "How did you know?"  
  
I lift an eyebrow. "You said it earlier. You said you were friends with Castle's only son. Hayden right?"  
  
"Hayden," Reese says with a nod. I can tell that he really doesn't want to talk about this but I decide to push anyways. Reese is not only a part of the team; he's a friend I've come to trust with my life. And if that weren't enough I know what he is to Helena even if right now she's in no shape to admit it. I know how she feels about him and I know what it will do to her if he's hurt.  
  
Okay okay, I'm getting cheesy. I'm tired and it's late and I'm not nearly caffeinated enough.  
  
So deal dammit.  
  
"Wait," Reese drawls. "I told you I was old friends' with Castle's boy but I never said his name."  
  
I wince. I'd been hoping that he'd miss that. "Yeah," I start slowly. "I wanted to make a list of possible targets."  
  
He nods. He knows I'm telling the truth but he also knows that I'm just plain nosy. I like it so shut up. "Okay," he says.  
  
"So, what about you and Castle?"  
  
He laughs. "I knew you couldn't resist."  
  
I shrug. Ah well. "Castle?" I press.  
  
"Hayden," he corrects. "I don't see him much. He's uh, he's a hitman."  
  
"You worried about him?" I inquire, watching his eyes. They're full of emotion and confusion. And a lot of other things.  
  
"Of course but he can take care of himself." He clears his throat. "Is Dinah already in bed?" He laughs. "Man, we should all be."  
  
I shake my head and frown. "No, she went to the morgue to recover some evidence for me. She should be back shortly."  
  
I consider briefly jumping on comm to see what's keeping Dinah but then decide against it. She hasn't been gone that long and I really don't want to annoy her. Not right now anyways. God know I've been doing that enough lately.  
  
Much of it for my own amusement to be honest.  
  
"I didn't hear that," Reese grins. He's going to keep trying to pretend he doesn't know how many laws we break. You know my father worked with Batman but he never got comfortable with his methods. Reese, well I don't know just yet. Not all the way.  
  
"How's your leg feeling?" I ask him suddenly, aware that he's been up and on it a lot today.  
  
"Just like me," he says. "Wiped out."  
  
We both look at each other.  
  
Yeah we get that.

* * *

She hit the ground with a hard thud. Grunting in pain she shoved herself back up and snapped off a high kick towards the thug's head. It cracked against his face and blood exploded from his now broken eye socket. She turned around, murder in her eyes and faced her enemy.  
  
"You ready to take me yet?" she growled at Zeus. He was leaning against the wall of the cabin, watching as she systematically worked her way through his security guards. Even as hazy and unfocused as she was, she had make shockingly short work of his well-trained men in black.  
  
"Soon," he assured her. "I'd turn around if I were you."  
  
She spun to her left and put her foot out, causing the goon that had been racing towards her to clatter to the deck. She shoved her heel into his throat and shoved down. "I'm done with this."  
  
"That's good," he said. "Because so am I." The amusement dripped away from him and he started to walk towards her. She readied herself to take him but another wave of nausea crashed over and she tumbled.  
  
When she looked up again he was standing over her, shaking his head. "Give me a second," she grumbled, putting her hands on the deck.  
  
"I would if I were a sporting fellow but I'm not. Just heard about what you did to my son," Zeus said, his eyes dark. She couldn't tell if he was pissed or annoyed but neither was exactly good for her.  
  
"Aw, too bad," Helena smirked. "He had it coming and you know it."  
  
"You know the funny thing is, Kyle, you and I want the same thing."  
  
"Somehow I doubt that," she muttered, pushing herself up to her feet. The moment she was standing on two legs again he kicked out and dropped her back down. She cried out and crashed back to the ground, stunned by how little fight she had left.  
  
Something was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
That strange drugged feeling was back in full force.  
  
"We do," he assured her. "I wasn't overly thrilled with Mick bringing you in and neither were you. But here's the thing, you're in. And once you're mob, you are until you're dead."  
  
"Sorry, I forgot to pay my monthly dues," she coughed. "I'll gladly resign."  
  
He dropped down next to her. "I'm not giving you that option."  
  
She locked eyes with him. "You're more deluded than your psycho son if you think I'm gonna be run by you. "  
  
He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her down, face-first into the deck. She cried out as a splinter cut hard into her cheek, drawing blood. She kicked out with her foot and spun herself around to face him. She balled her hand and swung at him but he easily dodged the blow, instead grabbing her wrist and twisting it. She gasped in pain but again tried to hit him. He laughed. "I was right, I do kinda like you."  
  
Then he reached out and punched her hard across the face. She fell like a sack of potatoes to the ground. He stood up and brushed himself off. He glanced around and saw Adam standing over one of the unconscious guards.  
  
"They didn't do so well," Adam quipped. "She's quite the fighter."  
  
"That's true," Zeus noted. "She's fairly adept at fighting off the drugs that Mick has been giving her. I told him to up the dosage."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"Take her out to the back." Zeus said. "Treat her like you would any of the boys who have who disappointed me." He paused. "And I mean boys."  
  
"You want to keep her around?" Adam asked with some incredulity.  
  
Zeus nodded slowly. "Yes, there's something I want her to do for me."  
  
Adam shook his head. He bent over and picked up Helena's unconscious body. He swung her over his shoulders. "You really think she'll do it?"  
  
Zeus smiled. "I think we'll make her."  
  
        END CHAPTER FIVE 


	6. 6

There are moments in a person's life when they start to wonder about the choices they've made and the things they've done. It's about twenty seconds of perfect clarity where everything comes into crystal clear focus.  
  
I'm right there right now.  
  
I've been beaten to a pulp before. I've been at deaths door before. I've been so damn many things that it's hard to focus on one or two. But this, this is worse than anything I've ever been through before.  
  
This is hell.  
  
I'm in hell.  
  
And that little fucktard Ratboy is the one sticking it to me. With his hands and feet and that stupid little grin.  
  
I roll over on my side and I gasp for air. I can taste iron in my mouth and I think my nose is broken. And hey, that's just for starters. I'm really not sure what else is shattered because right now everything hurts. I guess the part of the drug that killed the pain is long gone.  
  
Adam moves over to me and yanks me up by the hair. He looks at me almost curiously. "I'm amazed," he says to me with a strange smile. "You're a hell of a lot stronger than you look."  
  
I reach for a witty comeback but nothing comes to mind. My head is spinning like a stuck wheel and I'm just not getting anywhere fast. He drops me back down and makes a circle with hand. I guess that means continue because Ratboy kicks me right in the gut. I bite down hard and my lip starts to bleed.  
  
I don't know how long this has been going on but it feels like an eternity that I've had four men kicking and punching at me. I've never seen the other two before but they hardly matter.  
  
It's Ratboy I want.  
  
They plan to let me live.  
  
I don't think I'll be that merciful with Ratboy given the chance.  
  
"Stop," I hear a voice say. It's not Adam or Zeus so I'm momentarily confused. Grateful mind you but perplexed.  
  
Then I look up and see who the newcomer is and my stomach crashes. I feel like I'm about to hurl. I press my face against the desk and bite the edge of my sweater. Or what's left of my sweater anyways. It's pretty much torn to shreds at this point. Yes, the bruisers can see my bra. Lucky them.  
  
Yeah, gallows humor. Bite me.  
  
"Hey Cat," Mick says as he bends down next to me. His voice is so gentle but I can feel how tense he is. How incredibly pissed off he is. He wants to hurt me but he's fighting for control. The rabble-rouser in me tells me to taunt him but my body screams out that it can't take much more.  
  
"Mick, what are you doing here?" Adam asks, his voice very quiet. I can tell that he's irritated but he seems to know his place. He seems to be willing to defer to Mick but I'm not quite sure why. I mean Zeus clearly prefers Adam's leadership skills.  
  
"This doesn't concern you, Adam," he replies gruffly. He waves his hand back at him. "Get out of here, I'll handle her."  
  
"I think you've done more than enough of that," Adam replies. "Mick, come on, stop bending over to this girl."  
  
I laugh. I realize immediately that it was a mistake because Ratboy buries his steel boot into my ribcage. I hear a wet crack and pain surges like wildfire through me. I'm kind of amazed that I can still feel any pain at all. I mean at this point, everything is becoming one giant mass of ouch.  
  
Mick is on his feet within seconds. He slams Ratboy to the ground and punches him twice hard across the face. Ratboy staggers backwards and hits the railing, almost falling over it. I can see blood dripping from his mouth. I want to cheer but I hate Mick too so I stay quiet.  
  
"Man, I thought you were dead," Ratboy gasps out. He sounds and looks pathetic. Like a weasel.  
  
I don't like Mick much but I like Ratboy less.  
  
"Enough," Adam says, grabbing Mick's shoulder. "This is by your dad's orders. He wants her roughed up a bit. Stand back and let us finish our job."  
  
I roll onto my back and look up at Mick through hazy eyes. My vision is blurred by all the blood and sweat. I feel like every inch of my body is on fire. It's too much. It's too damn much.  
  
No more.  
  
Mick sighs. "Fine but then she's mine."  
  
"Not tonight son," Zeus says, coming around to stand behind Mick. He puts a hand on his shoulder and appears almost fatherly. Again a nasty insult comes to my mind but the only sound that comes out my mouth is the gurgling of blood. It's getting harder to breathe and I wonder if something is wrong with my lungs.  
  
"She's about done, sir," Adam tells his boss. He reaches down and lifts me up. I groan and try to swing away from me but he holds me without much effort. He slams his balled fist right into my gut and I shake as the force cracks another bone. I see Mick make a face but he doesn't step forward.  
  
He's not about to cross his old man.  
  
Can't say as I blame him.  
  
I've dealt with some nasty characters, most of them with superhuman powers, but this guy is hard-core. Mean as hell and evil as the devil. He likes my pain and he seems to enjoy my fear.  
  
I don't want to show him any but after being beaten to a near bloody pulp, I'm not doing such a bang-up job of disguising my emotions.  
  
"Good," Zeus says, stepping over to me. Adam is still holding me up in the air, carrying me like I'm a fucking rag doll. Zeus lifts my chin and forces me to meet his eyes. My left eye is nearly swollen shut but I can still make him out with my right one. He's amused.  
  
"Son of a..."  
  
Yeah, that's all I manage to get out and I'm not even sure the words were in the right order  
  
He squeezes my jaw, his thumb biting into my flesh. Involuntarily I cry out. I'm angry and I'm in my pain. My body has betrayed me.  
  
I'm a fighter. I've been doing it all my life in oh so many ways. My body is usually my best weapon but this time it's let me down. I don't know what drug they've been putting into me but it's weakened me substantially.  
  
I can't fight. I can't defend myself. I'm completely at their mercy.  
  
I don't want to die.  
  
This realization hits me like a ton of bricks.  
  
For the last several weeks I've been living on the edge, almost like I'm waiting for the fall.  
  
I don't want to tumble.  
  
"Oh Helena," he says. "You don't look so good. I admire your bravado but you're losing ground, sweetie."  
  
I groan. I hate when people call me names like that. Just plain pisses me off to no end. Still, I remain silent.  
  
"Sir?" Adam says stepping behind him. I can see that he's keeping an eye on Mick who looks irritated.  
  
"We're done here," Zeus tells Adam. He moves his face closer to mine. "We're going to have a little discussion within the next few days. You're going to do me a favor."  
  
I spit at him.  
  
I know, I know. I couldn't quite resist.  
  
My reward is that he drops me to the deck and kicks my side with about as much force as he can muster. I cry out, tears spilling down my cheek. I feel darkness swirling around me.  
  
I don't want to die.  
  
"Dad..." I hear Mick call, his voice suddenly seeming very far away.  
  
"Give her a bit..."  
  
Zeus is saying something but I can't quite make out the words. The pain overwhelms me.  
  
You remember what I said earlier about moments of perfect clarity? Well this is one.  
  
I know in this moment that one way or another, this all has to stop.  
  
It's over.

* * *

"You have a test today," Barbara Gordon reminded her young charge, using her best teacher voice. She swept around to the opposite side of the table and plucked a piece of toast off a plate.  
  
Dinah groaned. "You had me out all night digging into dead people, I think you can write me a damn note."  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow. She was long accustomed to working on only three or four of sleep but the blonde standing in front of her was definitely dragging. And it wasn't just the baggy sweats giving off that vibe.  
  
"I suppose," she replied slowly. "But you'll have to take the test at lunch tomorrow."  
  
"Can't I just take it here at home?"  
  
"No," Barbara replied firmly. "You always cheat."  
  
Dinah laughed. "Oh no, not me. I'm not the one who cheats. You always stand over my shoulder prodding me and pushing me. You know, 'are you sure that's the answer you want to give' and all of that."  
  
"Do not," Barbara shot back.  
  
"Uh huh," Dinah snorted. She shook her head and yawned. "So does that mean I can go back to bed?"  
  
"Yes, go back to bed," Barbara grinned. She brushed her hands off, scattering crumbs on the table. She looked at the small mess for a few moments, fighting with the urge to clean it up. She glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed that she was already a few minutes behind.  
  
"You can do it," Dinah quipped. She watched her mentor stare at the messy table. "You can walk away."  
  
"Oh shut up," Barbara muttered as she moved around and swept the crumbs into her cupped hands. She dropped them into a nearby trashcan and then turned to glare at Dinah. "Do not mock your guardian."  
  
Dinah just winked and her and yawned. "No never, wouldn't dream of it. Have a fun day at school."  
  
"Sure, sure," Barbara replied. "Oh hey, do me a favor."  
  
Dinah turned back towards her, blonde hair spinning. "Mm?"  
  
"Wake Reese up before eleven. He has a meeting with the Commissioner this morning."  
  
"That doesn't sound good."  
  
"Probably isn't good," Barbara agreed. "Daniel Balestrom knows all about Reese's family ties. I'm guessing they want to talk to him about Zeus."  
  
"Reese really doesn't want to talk about him," Dinah noted.  
  
"He really doesn't," Barbara chuckled. "But we all have to face the music sooner or later." She sighed. "And right now that includes me."  
  
"Hey Barbara?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What about Helena? Isn't...isn't it time?"  
  
"Time?" Barbara queried. Then she nodded. "It's time. I'm gonna go by her apartment tonight." She wrung her hands.  
  
"Are you going to bring her back?"  
  
"I'm going to try." She locked eyes with Dinah and then smiled. "Don't worry, if I know Helena, by now she's completely worn out. Even she can only sulk for so long."  
  
Dinah laughed. "I thought you knew her better."  
  
"True enough," Barbara said, cocking her head. "Okay, I'm out of here. Go back to bed. Don't forget to wake Reese up."  
  
"Will do," Dinah yawned. Over her back she called out, "Bring her home."  
  
"I will," the redhead replied softly.  
  
Barbara slipped into the elevator. She waited until the doors closed and then dropped her head into her hands. She prayed to every god that was listening that she hadn't lied to Dinah.  
  
Every single bloody god.

* * *

"Daniel," I say by way of greeting as I walk towards the table he's sitting at. Okay walk isn't quite the right word for it but I think gimped makes me sound pretty pathetic. Just the same, I place the crutches on the side of the table and drop down into the chair.  
  
We're sitting on the outside porch of a little café in downtown New Gotham. It's one of those swanky little ones that are heavily populated by being drawing a lot of zeros in their paychecks.  
  
"Jesse," he says, taking my hand. It's a firm handshake. Daniel is definitely a man's man. I used to throw the football around with a little bit. That was before he got married and before both of us got busy with our careers. "How's your leg holding up?"  
  
I shrug. "The doctor thinks I'll be able to toss the crutches in about five weeks so that's something I guess."  
  
"And the rehab?"  
  
I grimace and he chuckles. "Yeah," I admit. "Really haven't gotten there just yet."  
  
"Well you know the department won't clear you for active duty until you pass a physical, right?"  
  
"I know," I reply. "But I don't think you called me here to talk about me doing wind sprints."  
  
"True enough," Balestrom admitted. "Here's the thing Jesse, I'm worried about you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
Daniel smiled, not unkindly. "I know what's going on. I know that Zeus is killing a lot of the mob children. Another one died this morning. A child of Tiger's."  
  
"That's three."  
  
"Jess, I'm worried that you're on the list." Daniel takes a deep breath and I know what's coming. "If I have to, I'll out you to protect you."  
  
I shake my head. "I'll resign long before that happens. I'm not wearing his legacy on my back."  
  
He stares at me and I can tell that he's trying to figure out how to change my mind. Finally he decides to change subjects. "Hey, we had some of the lab boys check out the video from the robbery the other night. You know the one where your friend was killed?"  
  
"Uh huh," I say cautiously. This topic doesn't thrill me either. I don't like lying to Daniel but I don't have much of a choice here.  
  
"They believe it matches the eyes of the robber who shot you at the Shield Ball several weeks back." He shrugs. "We can't use it in court but it appears that our girl is still running with that gang. We're also trying to match the tattoo on her back."  
  
"Don't bother," I drawl. "I've seen that one maybe a hundred times."  
  
"That distinctive?" he asks, lifting an eyebrow. I think he thinks I know something. He's not wrong but I need to be smarter. I need to pull everything a little bit tighter. "Looks like a drunk goose to me."  
  
I laugh. I remember back to a conversation I had with Helena about the tat. I had asked her what it was and she had with great indignation declared that it was a phoenix. Perhaps an evil phoenix I had retorted. Yeah, that had been an interesting night.  
  
"I don't know Daniel. What about fingerprints?"  
  
He shakes his head. "None. The scene was wiped clean. We know she didn't kill your friend; a guy did that. Still, that one is crazy as hell."  
  
"You're turned on by a woman in leather with an attitude aren't you?" I quip, my lip lifting up into a smile. I find myself amused even when I know I shouldn't be. Leave it to Helena to entice someone even without trying.  
  
"Like you should talk," Daniel chuckles. "Speaking of which, what happened to that beautiful girlfriend of yours? Haven't seen her lately."  
  
"Hard times," I answer, not untruthfully. "She needed some time."  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, sipping from a tall glass of what looks like tea. His posture is lazy but I know him well enough to guess that he's on edge. He can probably tell that I'm being evasive.  
  
"Yeah, it'll be okay," I reply mildly, watching his face carefully. I accept a glass of water from the waiter and then order a cheeseburger. Daniel gives me an amused smile.  
  
"We're at a fifteen dollar a plate café and you order a cheeseburger and lemon water?"  
  
"You forgot the fries," I quip.  
  
"Indeed." He sighs. "Look, here's the thing; I think you know more than you're telling me. I'm not sure what it is but there's something going on with you. I don't know what it is but I'm asking you now, for old-time's sake, come clean. Let me help you."  
  
I shake my head. "Don't have anything for you Daniel."  
  
He leans closer to me. "Jesse, I did some looking into this girlfriend of yours..."  
  
You know what, I'll never know what he was going to say next and I think I'll wonder about it for the rest of my life. It was something about Helena. That much I know for sure at the very least.  
  
Everything else was lost in a spray of bullets.  
  
A spray meant for me.  
  
The first wash of gunfire cut down an old couple lunching next to the railing. They both fell to the ground, instantly dead. It gave me a few seconds but just enough to stumble from my chair. I use my left arm and I grab at Daniel, yanking him down under the table. He pushes it up and over us but he's too late.  
  
A bullet slices cleanly through the air and embeds itself in his throat. He looks at me wide-eyed and then reaches out for. Blood spurts out of his mouth and he tries to talk. He falls forward three seconds later.  
  
Dead as the table I'm using to shield myself from the bullets.  
  
I look over the table to try to see who it is that's firing and I see a black van out in front of the café. Some little punk in a ski mask is leaning over the door firing a semi-automatic.  
  
I reach down to Daniel's body and take his off-duty gun out of his holster. I release the safety and I open up. My third bullet nails the jackass kid right between the eyes. The driver of the vans freaks when all the blood sprays back on him and he hits the pedal. The van leaps and then speeds away, leaving a long black track in its wake.  
  
"Fuck!" I scream as I stand up. I push the gun into my belt and drop down next to Daniel. Stupidly my hand reaches out to check for a pulse but all I get is a fistful of blood. I change directions and lift up his palm. I bite my lip when my eyes pass over the gold wedding band he's wearing.  
  
A wife. Three kids.  
  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
  
Two waiters from inside the restaurant come rushing out. One is a Hispanic kid name Jose who doesn't speak a wick of English but he never hesitates to drop down next to a man who is lying bleeding on the ground. The fellow is still alive. At least for now. I watch uselessly as Jose rips off his apron and starts working to stop the blood.  
  
I stumble to my side and my injured leg gives out. I end up on my ass starting out around me at all of the bullets. I look down at Daniel.  
  
"That was supposed to be me," I say dully.  
  
I look at the wedding band again.  
  
I guess I'll be the one then.  
  
The one bringing home the ring.  
  
It was supposed to be me.

* * *

She dropped to the ground with a loud thud, her body rolling to the side. Blood dripped down across her skin and spilled onto the beige carpet. He nudged her with his boot, disgusted at the mess.  
  
"I could have carried her," Adam said mildly, carefully watching his boss's unhappy face.  
  
Zeus slipped into the kitchen and went over to the sink. He turned the water on and began to wash his hands clean of the blood. "Did you know she uses strawberry soap?"  
  
Adam lifted an eyebrow. "Sir?"  
  
Zeus lifted up a oddly shaped bottle. "Soap. It's strawberry. Smells great."  
  
"Oh," Adam replied. He glanced at his watch. They'd been beating the hell out of Helena Kyle for most of the day and he was exhausted. The boss usually wasn't so thorough about someone he intended to keep alive but he knew better than to second-guess him.  
  
"Problem?" Zeus asked, turning towards the young man. "You question my decisions?"  
  
"No," Adam said quickly. "Not question per say."  
  
"You're concerned that I'm as deluded as Mick?"  
  
"No. No, sir."  
  
"I'm not," Zeus laughed. "Don't worry. I think we might yet have a use for Miss Kyle. And right now at the very least, she's being kept alive as a favor to an old friend."  
  
"Old friend?"  
  
Zeus frowned. "Well not so much. An old one-time friend. When I was much younger we ran a hell of a heist together."  
  
"You lost me, sir."  
  
"Her mother was a woman who went by the handle of Catwoman. She was the single best thief that I have ever met in my entire life."  
  
"So you're keeping her alive because you had a fling with her mother?"  
  
'Once upon a time," Zeus mused. "And only for now." He bent down next to Helena. "You cross me again and I will rip your insides out and make you watch."  
  
Helena just sputtered in reaction, both of her eyes nearly swollen shut.  
  
"What about Hawke?" Adam asked, accepting the towel that Zeus was holding out to him.  
  
"Jesse or Al?"  
  
"Jesse. Al's still in prison."  
  
"And of no consequence," Zeus murmured. "A few of the boys went to deal with Jesse a bit earlier. He shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Helena made a noise from the ground but both men ignored her.  
  
"Mick's not going to be happy," Adam commented. "He wanted to deal with the cop himself."  
  
"That's too bad. She was always too much woman for him anyways." He glanced at his watch. "We should be going." He bent back down over Helena. "Be seeing you soon."  
  
She heard the two men move towards the door, one of them scuffing the carpet. The door slammed shut and then all she heard was silence. She rolled herself into a ball, hissing as her insides screamed at her.  
  
She tried to move but her body refused. She tried to crawl but her legs instantly turned to jelly. She felt the burns of tears on her cheeks but she managed to hold back the torrent.  
  
Even alone she didn't want to give in. Didn't want to break.  
  
"Helena?"  
  
She blinked. Well as much as she could anyways. She knew that voice. She wondered idly if she was just imagining it, searching for a source of comfort.  
  
Reese was likely dead.  
  
God only knew who was next.  
  
"Oh God, Helena..."  
  
It certainly sounded like her.  
  
"Ba...Bar...buh...Barbara?"  
  
"Oh baby," the soft voice said. The empathy the brunette heard nearly broke her heart. It was too much.  
  
She heard the sound of wheels coming closer, scraping over the carpet. Then a loud thump as her mentor dropped herself to her knees. She felt a slight tug as Barbara lifted her into her arms and cradled her against her breast.  
  
"Barbara," Helena gasped, tears starting to trickle down. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...."  
  
The redhead pulled her closer, whispering nonsense words into her ear. Blood spilled freely onto her clothing, staining her new green shirt. Barbara didn't care. She pressed a kiss to Helena's feverish forehead. 'It's okay. It's okay. I've got you now."  
  
Helena pressed her face against Barbara's skin, drinking in the warmth and the emotion. The tears came faster, almost like a tidal wave. Finally and with the force of a typhoon, they shattered the dam wall.  
  
She began to sob, her body wracked by horrific tremors. It sounded like a wounded animal howling in agony. Barbara just continued to hold her, rocking her slowly and speaking to her in a very soft voice.  
  
"Shh baby, shh...."  
  
"Help me," Helena gasped out between sobs. "Please...I'm so sorry..."  
  
Barbara kissed her hair and smiled slightly. "You're home now."  
  
        -FIN

* * *

There's one more story to come folks. 


End file.
